Lucy had several problems and no idea how to solve any of them. The crossbow problem she solved by stashing it in her sock drawer, or rather she delayed it by putting the weapon there. Her crowbar was hidden in a corner of the wardrobe, obscured by enough clothes to make a supermodel excited. As for her mask, that went in Lucy’s personal bin, and was pressed down by a foot. The material of the mask splayed and flattened until tears finally formed, and Lucy kept pushing until the nose was a crumpled mess.

That took care of her immediate concerns, but only one of those was actually a problem. To realise just how bad another one of her problems was, Lucy went to her bathroom and inspected the many lightning strikes she had just picked up. Jumpspark had been a gentleman, and had avoided Lucy’s boobs. For that at least, she was grateful, but she held remarkably less grateful feelings about the three handprints she could see on her shoulders, along with the ones on her wrists.

The damage was worse when she turned around. Jumpspark’s favourite move had been to piggyback off of her swing and appear behind her at its end, so Lucy had six or seven more handprints covering her back. It was hard to count them all, some of them blended together or weren’t full palms.

Lucy gingerly poked the scars she could reach, which was only a few of them. The one on her wrist hurt less than the ones on her shoulder, and the week old burn on one shoulder had flared with a vengeance after meeting Jumpspark again.

Looking at herself, Lucy wondered if she should just wear a turtleneck for the next few days.

Hiding your scars as prey is ill fitting.

Conflicting feelings arose in Lucy. In the end, she made no decision beyond promising herself to wear her hoodie if her parents came home. If she wore her hair down and avoided turning her head too fast, her bruising would effectively be covered.

Other than that, Lucy was surprised at how little she felt of these wounds compared to the single one from the week before. Her sense of touch was back, mostly. It was hard to measure the sensations she felt now against the ones she took for granted just the day before. She supposed that was her power, the ability to feel less pain. That, and whatever had happened to Jumpspark.

It didn’t make any sense.

Remembering something that the hero had said, Lucy leaned closer to inspect her eyes. They were the same colour they had always been, a blue that looked like a grey in the bathroom light, but that was under shade. It was hard to get any light to shine directly on them with the overhead lights, but by leaning down and tilting her head up it was manageable. The colour became more vibrant that way but it wasn’t anything worth mentioning, and it still looked muted.

Putting that out of her mind, Lucy ran a cold shower to help with bruising, turning the temperature even colder when she realised the temperature she’d used last time wasn’t all that uncomfortable. She was both surprised and disappointed when the coldest setting failed to make her shiver. The shower had been a subtle gambit to feel something normal again, and it had failed.

Far too soon Lucy was back in her room wearing her not-comforting-enough pyjamas and sitting on her bed holding the crossbow that had once been Jumpspark. The ten minute shower hadn’t been enough for the young girl to wrap her head around this insane circumstance. A hundred ten minute showers wouldn’t be enough.

People were going to wonder where the hero had gone. Jumpspark had friends and family. He was even kind of funny in hindsight. Most importantly, other members of his team of heroes- the Sentry- were going to… want vengeance? Was that a thing that happened outside of the movies, or was Lucy just crazy?

It was very tempting to say yes to that last thing.

Lucy was aware of hundreds of things that could potentially lead to her being questioned by the heroes. Evidence left at the scene where it happened for one. All it would take was one of her hairs, and suddenly Lucy’s genetic marker would be in the whole country’s database. They’d find her in days with that. If she got caught fighting the hero on camera, she’d be the last witness to see him. She’d be tracked down, and whoever did the tracking would use methods more reliable than televising her image.

And when they found her, because Lucy was very confident that they would, what was she going to say? That Jumpspark had tried to help and Lucy had responded by turning him into a crossbow? Somehow, Lucy didn’t think anyone would be impressed if she said that.

With the crossbow coming up in her thoughts over and over again, Lucy took the time to actually inspect the weapon her power had made. It was entirely metal, was the first thing that Lucy realised. The second was that the contraption was incredibly light despite that, and the third was that the crossbow wasn’t the one Jumpspark had used. It was very similar to the one Jumpspark had used to fly across the city, but this one looked actually deadly.

The hero only needed a hand pressed against skin to be dangerous.

One of the biggest differences between the old model and this was in the sighting. Jumpspark’s crossbow didn’t have a scope, but Lucy did remember seeing something for aiming. Now there were two spines near to where a shooter would put their head to line up, and at the mouth where the head of the bolt would be nestled were two much more prominent metal spines rising in a gentle V shape.

The wire bowstring still shimmered slowly with evident power as Lucy turned the weapon over in her hands, inspecting it from every angle. Eventually curiosity got the better of Lucy, and she pulled on the cocking stirrup after taking half a minute to figure out how best to pull it. The crossbow came to life the moment the string locked into the latch.

It hummed in Lucy’s grasp, and the two spines at the front end became charged with white electricity. The lightning arced between the two wires, reminding Lucy of a Jacob’s ladder. Only the arc that reached the top stayed there, refusing to vanish. When Lucy sighted down the crossbow again, she found the upwards arc of white lightning wasn’t blinding like it should have been, and lined up well with what was already there to form something like a crosshair.

Lucy inspected the crossbow for a short while longer before pulling the trigger on a whim. It jumped in her hands more than she expected, but she still held onto it well enough. The lightning in the sight sputtered out, pushed forwards out of the crossbow by some unseen force, and the entire thing fell dormant once more.

Suddenly, Lucy realised how morbid her moment of enjoyment had been, and so gently put crossbow down on the sheets in front of her.

“What do I do?” Lucy muttered. No answers miraculously presented themselves, as they had done the last five times she asked herself that question. She looked at the crossbow. “Do you want food or something? I can cook.”

The crossbow predictably said nothing. Lucy sighed and picked it up again, letting her hands feel and discover the contraption's every contour while she thought about other things. She thought about Gracia, and resolved that she had done the right thing in walking away from the more attractive girl. The other three that received power vials were less cut and dry.

Paul, for one, had done nothing but watch a girl he barely knew be denied a power. He’d also stood up for her before that, but he’d also done nothing when it mattered. Of course, starting a fight against someone that could keep the Bad Dogs in some semblance of control was suicide, but Lucy didn’t care. Lucy decided she didn’t know how to feel about him, and that she would make a decision when she knew more.

He was getting a power- probably already had it- and would become a villain or a hero accordingly. The latter was unlikely, so Lucy would be visiting the Streamrock based website superdogwatch.com a few times over the next week or two to find out what had become of him.

On the other hand, Lucy found it very easy to decide how she felt about Lawrence. The boy was large and smart, but abrasive and rude, and had held Lucy in contempt after figuring out what kind of power she wanted. He had probably been relieved when Lucy’s vial of The Twisting Sky had been smashed.

If Lucy ever saw him again, she would seriously consider using her new power on him.

As for Hanna, Lucy found herself conflicted. Hanna hadn’t treated her well, but she didn’t treat anyone well. She had been driven, something about a score to settle with Cerberus, which had likely overshadowed her actions that night.

And then Tyr…

Lucy shuddered, her grip on the crossbow tightening as she remembered the villain’s hand doing the same.

The man was a war monger and terrorist, and distracted his followers with constant cage matches when there wasn’t any war to fight. There was a stigma in Streamrock about wearing blue, since that was the colour of the Bad Dogs. Blue was the colour of Tyr’s power, which was where that had come from, but there was once a contender for gang colours in the city Lucy lived in.

Only a few short years ago there had been a biker gang based on the eastside of Streamrock called the Hellrider Angels, and Lucy’s house had actually been located in the fringes of their territory. The people that threw their lot in with the Hellrider Angels wore red, and had opposed the many gangs of the city. Slowly, their territory had been chipped away, until their leader, along with several of his officers, and eventually everyone else in the gang had fought against the Bad Dogs in the streets.

That had been a scary few days for Lucy to live, but she and her dad had stayed home and watched the breaking news along with everyone else. She had watched as Tyr killed seven of the most powerful fighters of the Hellrider Angels live on television, and he did it alone. After that showing of strength things had actually calmed down, but things had never become explicitly good in Streamrock.

That person. That Villain had made himself a new enemy tonight. He didn’t care, obviously. Why would he care when his enemy had just been an unpowered girl? Tyr went toe to toe with the most deadly things imaginable, but prevailed. People like Lucy were beneath his notice.

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Have you decided the identity of your first true enemy?

Lucy would make him regret closing his fist one day. It wouldn’t be today, and it wouldn’t be tomorrow, but it would happen.

A grudge will make you grow, oh vessel mine, but do not lose sight of the battlefield.

Who are the ones you call foes?

To fight Tyr, even with reduced feeling and possibly enhanced strength, as well as a weapon made from a hero with no ammunition was suicide. Fortunately, there were a myriad of supervillains nobody would miss below him that Lucy could seek out and test herself against first.

Cerberus was well known, but relatively ineffectual in comparison. Lucy mostly knew about her because of the red and blue debate that sprung up whenever she was mentioned online. She wore blue in her costume, but it was easily missed. Her power to create and control an explosively unstable kind of matter was a stark red in contrast, which many people took to mean that the villain was once a Hellrider Angel.

Fenris was less known, but accepted as the third most powerful villain in the Bad Dogs. Lucy didn’t know much about her power. Hellhound wasn’t very strong, but was used to find specific people that Tyr had taken issue with and punish them. As for Pistolwhip, Lucy would stay far away from him. There was a reason he had such a long career when he was a well known villain.

There was also Garmr, and Nilbog who were well known to the rest of the city, as well as Huskie, who Gracia had mentioned to her. Underneath them were all the cage match fighters, which numbered somewhere between fifteen and thirty. The news seemed to think the number trended higher rather than lower.

These foes will be the stepping stones on the path to your true foe.

Lucy stared at the crossbow in her hands. “What am I thinking?” The words escaped her lips in a muted, barely audible murmur.

You are plotting your path to victory.

I really need some sleep. Lucy decided. After some consideration, because she really didn’t want to put a jacob’s ladder in her sock drawer, Lucy let the crossbow rest on her desk. She turned the lights out and lay in bed to begin a long wait for a restless sleep.

~~~

“Jumpspark?” Lowlight tapped his visor to recalibrate his optics and scanned the road and rooftops beneath him. Nothing about the mostly empty street struck him as strange. His scanning gear agreed.

The young genius' fingers started tapping an anxious pattern on his calf. This was where he was supposed to meet the senior hero. Jumpspark always sped on ahead and liked to strike a pose on given rooftops when Lowlight took too long to catch up. He should’ve been calling out to him and jokingly complimenting him on his independence.

But he wasn't there. Lowlight's anxious fingers tapped through the channels before ending up on the one he started on. He’d already been waiting for a short while.

“Uh… Jumpspark? You there buddy?”

It was the local channel for paired patrols. Jumpspark should've been able to hear him.

Nobody responded.

“Shit.”

Lowlight wasn't the guy who was supposed to call things in. He hadn't paid attention when he was being taught radio etiquette, distracted by the way light had been reflecting around the room as he tended to be. He barely paid attention when the senior hero did the movie pose of pressing down on their ear.

And there had always been an older hero to take that responsibility. Perks of being the youngest hero in Streamrock by seventeen months.

It was night time, so Lowlight just pressed a button on his wrist pad and had his nightboard lower to just above a street lamp. He hesitated, then pressed on the comm unit in his ear. Any words in his mouth dried up, and he eventually let it go.

Confusion struck the young genius. That hadn't even pressed a button. Why did people keep doing that?

Then common sense pierced the hero's enhanced thoughts. That wasn't even how the radios worked. Calling them radios was wrong anyway, only phones had the range his comm units had.

Suddenly remembering how to use his mundane equipment, Lowlight connected a call back to what he thought was the hero base. Or Sentry headquarters. It didn't matter, he still didn't know what to say.

“Jumpspark. That you?” A male voice asked through the line. “You missed the check in by seven minutes.”

“About that...” Lowlight said, still unsure of himself. He pressed the comm unit into his ear to better listen to the guy on the other end. Oh. That’s why.

“Is that Lowlight?” Danny asked. “Where's your buddy? This is the first time I've had you on the line. Is something up?”

“So you haven't heard from Jumpspark.” Lowlight realised.

“I haven't. Wait, you're calling because you can't find him?”

“... Yes?”

“And this is more than him just racing to the next checkpoint in front of you?”

“Uh… Yeah.”

“Shit.”

That's what I said. Lowlight thought as he waited for someone to tell him what would happen next.

“Okay.” Danny said after a short while. “This is being recorded. Nothing new, but I started a new recording. Tell me what happened.”

“What, why? Do you think he's like, actually missing?”

“Maybe.” The tone of Danny's voice sent a shiver through Lowlight's body. “If this is something serious, then this will be the first file in the case, so to speak. No pressure. What happened with Jumpspark?”

Lowlight felt the pressure of a hundred people suddenly paying attention to him, even though there was no way for them to even hear him yet. That was the trouble with recordings. They were so fun at the time, but so damn stupid in hindsight.

“Uh… So Jumpspark went ahead because that’s what he normally does.” Lowlight started, unsure of himself. “It’s fine because he can keep track of me. I installed software in his visor that highlights my gear, so he can track where I am when I’m on my nightboard. That’s how we work together. I’m the eye in the sky, while he travels at ground level. Or next to ground level. Because he uses that crossbow of his to go fast sometimes. I still never figured out how he could see when he was literally a crossbow bolt, but he-”

“You’re rambling Lowlight.” Danny interrupted. “What happened this time that was different from any other time?”

“I was going to say that he wasn’t technically the bolt, but the electrons inside.” Lowlight winced, realising his blunder. “Um. What I really meant to say, was he went on ahead, because that’s what he normally does…”

“And?” Danny asked.

“This time he didn’t show up.” Lowlight said. “Was that all I needed to say? It feels like that was all I needed to say.”

“Did he tell you that he was responding to anything?” Danny pressed, much calmer than the genius hovering above a street light. “What was his route and how did it differ from the one outlined in the briefing? Is there any way you can track him?”

“Track him?” Lowlight’s mind exploded with ideas. Some frequencies of light, or whatever the stuff he specialised in was, penetrated physical objects. He used that theory to track some of his gear, but that was expensive stuff he had to hand off to other people for reasons too complex to get sidetracked with. The point was that every invention of his had a marker that was possible to track. Most were just small. Like what would have been given off by the night vision visor Lowlight had installed in Jumpspark’s visor before the patrol began.

Unless Jumpspark went inside, Lowlight would be able to track him down. Even if he went inside, Lowlight’s patch jobs would leave a stronger trace that could have theoretically become a trail for the genius to follow. The changes he made to Jumpspark’s visor were done at the start of joined patrols because they always broke or stopped working after a few hours. He could work with that.

The best part was that it was a modification to one of Lowlight’s cameras that could be done in the field, but he didn’t have all the necessary pieces in his utility belt.

Lowlight looked down.

“Lowlight, do you have something?” Danny’s voice asked in his ear, startling the genius out of his sudden focus.

“Danny, jesus!” Lowlight wobbled on his nightboard, but it shifted to support him as he’d designed it to. Had been forced to design it to. “I had an idea. Just stay quiet for a bit!” The genius focused on what he could recall having thought about. His eyes fell on the street lamp and he understood.

The young hero stepped off of his floating nightboard and straddled the street lamp. Any concerns for safety were forgotten as the genius smashed the lamp’s cover and accessed the component inside. He removed his helmet and started tinkering moments later.

“Okay.” The genius said as he put the helmet on again and searched for the change in his visor. The new makeshift option stuck out from his neatly organised HUD, now missing an option, but it functioned. A new overlay activated, and Lowlight could suddenly make out the general route that his hovering nightboard had taken. “I think I have something. Here’s hoping it works.”

“Will you please explain what you just did the past ten minutes doing?” Danny asked.

“Ten minutes? That was like twenty seconds!”

“I just checked the time of this call, and it’s fourteen minutes long.” Danny informed the genius, who decided to just shut his mouth on the matter. “I’ll assume you just made something. I want to know what it is so I know if I need to kick this up the chain.”

“It’s a scanner for the stuff I made.” The genius said irritably as his nightboard gained height. “You know, since I put a piece of tech in Jumpspark's helmet. The radiation it gives off-”

“Wait, radiation?”

“It’s benign!” Lowlight insisted. “And I don’t know what else to call it. There are geiger counters in my workshop, and they never go off! The point is I should be able to track where Jumpspark went. I’m just getting height to see what path he took!”

“I’m making a note because it feels like we glossed over the Radiation.” Danny stressed. It was the most emotive the genius had ever heard him. “But Jumpspark’s trail. What do you see?”

Lowlight looked down over the blocks he and Jumpspark had been tasked with patrolling. He could see his own trail going back and forth slowly drifting in the direction of the wind as clear as day, with the intensity of the observed glow fading the older the trail got. He used that to gauge how long it took the radiation to subside, and was irritated to find that it wasn’t linear and did eventually disappear.

But he did find a broken, zig-zagging trail that would have been Jumpspark’s. “Aw, fuck.” It ended in the street, and the relatively straight line became a mess that doubled back on itself time and again, and even broke entirely in places. It looked like the scene of a fight.

A fight that had ended twenty one minutes and thirteen seconds ago by Lowlight’s calculations.

“What did you find?” Danny asked. Lowlight could hear the hesitation in his voice. He and Jumpspark had been close, or as close as two friends could get with someone like Tammy always butting her nose in. The girl was probably hovering over Danny’s shoulder right now.

“Scene of a fight, I think.” The genius said haltingly as he entered the light of a street lamp and his nightboard lost power. “By a park. Dalehurst Park unless the sign is wrong.” Said sign was supposed to be illuminated but the lights were broken. Lowlight’s visor however, could see perfectly in the dark in a number of ways. “This is wrong.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“The trail just ends.” Lowlight paused to spit out a hair that decided to choose that moment to fly into his mouth. “It’s definitely a fight. Looks like Jumpspark was on the ground for a bit. Multiple times, actually. But the trail just ends.” The genius looked around for spots that the hero could have used to ride away on a bolt. Nowhere immediately popped out that Jumpspark could have aimed at to escape, and the hero didn’t have good night vision like Lowlight did. “Like. It goes and goes, jumping around at odd arcs. He definitely did that thing where he conducts himself through someone, but then it just stops mid arc. I don’t know where he went from here.”

The line fell heavy with silence.

“I’m calling this in.” Danny said decisively. “Your patrol is over, come back to base. Sunshrieker’s going to want to know what’s going on. I’ll have a hot chocolate waiting for you.”