Philadelphia in late November is a city transformed. The usual bustle and noise are muffled under a thick blanket of slush, turning the streets into a treacherous obstacle course of hidden potholes and deceptively deep puddles. The sky is a uniform gray, threatening more snow, or worse, freezing rain. My breath puffs out in front of me, reminding me of the dragons in those old claymation Christmas specials. I pull my scarf tighter around my face, grateful for the extra layer between me and the biting wind.

I'm supposed to be heading to school, but my mind is anywhere but on geometry and American history. There's a storm coming, and I don't mean the weather. The Kingdom is planning something big, something absurd, and somehow I've found myself right in the middle of it all - or, well, I'm inserting myself in the middle of it all, against orders. I should be scared, I guess. Maybe I am, a little. But mostly, I'm just... ready. Ready to do something, to make a difference. Even if it means disobeying pretty much every adult in my life. I can't sit here in the snow and not do something. My body aches for action.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, probably Jordan asking where I am. I ignore it. I'll see them soon enough, and right now, I need to focus. I've got a list of people to talk to, alliances to forge. It feels weird, thinking about it like that. Like I'm some kind of general planning a war. But I guess that's kind of what this is, isn't it? A war. Just not the kind with armies and tanks and stuff. At least, I hope not. Although with the Kingdom involved, who knows?

A schoolgirl against a Kingdom. It's almost like a fantasy story.

I round the corner onto the street where my school sits, a squat, wiiiiide brick building that looks like it's trying to huddle down against the cold. Kids are milling around outside, their voices carried on the wind in snatches and fragments. I catch sight of Jordan near the entrance, head bent over their phone. They look up as I approach, and I can see the worry in their eyes. They know what I'm planning, even if they don't know all the details yet. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Here we go.

"Hey," I say, trying to sound casual. "Sorry I'm late. Had to take the long way around. There's a monster puddle on Frankford that I swear is trying to eat people's shoes."

Jordan snorts, but I can see the tension in their shoulders. "Yeah, well, maybe if you'd answered your texts, you'd have known about it."

I wince. "Sorry. I was... thinking."

Jordan raises an eyebrow. "About the zoo?"

I nod, glancing around to make sure no one's listening too closely. "Yeah. I've got a few people I need to talk to. Spread the word, you know?"

Jordan leans in, lowering their voice. "You sure about this, Sam? Kicking a hornet's nest of this size? I mean, you know I'm for it, I just... want to make sure you know what whirlwind you're summoning."

I meet their eyes, trying to project a confidence I'm not entirely sure I feel. "I'm sure. We can't just sit back and let them do... whatever it is they're planning. Someone has to do something."

Jordan grins devilishly. "Normally, the adults have to do something,"

"You still trust the adults in the room?" I ask.

"No," they answer.

The bell rings, cutting off any further discussion. We head inside, the warmth of the building a sharp contrast to the chill outside. As we walk to our lockers, I can't help but think about how normal everything looks. Kids laughing, complaining about homework, making plans for the weekend. None of them have any idea what's coming. I guess that's kind of the point, though. We're the ones who are supposed to keep it that way.

The day passes in a blur of classes and whispered conversations. I'm only half-paying attention to most of it, my mind racing with plans and contingencies. By the time the final bell rings, I'm practically vibrating with nervous energy. I say goodbye to Jordan, promising to update them later, and head out into the cold afternoon.

My first stop is a little coffee shop a few blocks from school. It's one of those places that tries really hard to be trendy, with exposed brick walls and Edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling. I spot Bulldozer at a table in the corner, hunched over a mug that looks comically small in his massive hands. He looks up as I approach, his face impassive.

"Bloodhound," he says, nodding slightly. "Didn't expect to see you around these parts."

I slide into the seat across from him, trying not to fidget. "I literally invited you here," I say, trying not to come across too aggressively. "It's a long way from Patty's. How are you holding up?"

He shrugs, a movement that looks like a mountain shifting. "Can't complain. Business as usual, you know how it is."

I do know, actually.

"Look, I'll cut to the chase," I say, leaning in. "Something big is going down. The Kingdom's planning something, and it's not going to be pretty. I'm trying to get the word out, make sure everyone's on their toes. Operation Ivory. They're going to... They're gonna steal a Rhinoceros, man."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Sean's expression doesn't change, but I see a flicker of interest in his eyes. "That so? And what exactly do you expect us to do about it?"

I shrug, trying to look nonchalant. "I'd expect friendly neighborhood heroes to care about Philly, but... Nothing, if you don't want to. Just... you know, you've got professional contacts. You should at least let them know to keep their eyes on the zoo."

He studies me for a long moment, and I resist the urge to squirm under his gaze. "Friendly?" He asks, laughing a big, barrel chest laugh. Finally, he nods. "Alright. We'll keep an ear to the ground. But don't expect any miracles, kid. We've got our own shit to deal with."

I nod, relief washing over me. It's not much, but it's something. "Thanks, Sean. I appreciate it."

"Go get yourself a crumb cake or something," he offers, tossing me a crumpled up five dollar note. I'm not one to look a gift dessert in the mouth, but by the time I'm back, he's gone in the snow.

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"Ow! Watch it with those pins, Amelia!" I yelp, trying not to squirm as Gossamer works on fitting my new costume.

We're in the back room of the Music Hall, which has been transformed into a makeshift tailor's workshop. Bolts of fabric - various kinds I've never heard of before - in various shades of blue and gray are strewn about, along with sketches and half-finished pieces of armor. Jordan is hunched over a tablet, muttering to themselves as they tweak the design.

Amelia rolls her eyes, but I can see the hint of a smile on her face. "If you'd stop fidgeting, I wouldn't keep accidentally stabbing you. Now hold still, I need to check the fit on this shoulder piece."

I try my best to stay motionless as Amelia works her magic. It's really hard. "What are you even trying to make here?"

Jordan looks up from their tablet. "Right, so we've got a base layer of thermal material to help with the cold. Over that, we've layered a cut-resistant fabric that should help protect you from knives - and Mudslide's brick hurling thing. The outer layer is waterproof so you don't get snowed over."

Amelia nods, her fingers deftly adjusting a seam. "It's designed to fit a kevlar vest underneath it. And we've added some extra padding in key areas, just in case."

"Why do you even have kevlar just lying around?" Jordan asks, glancing over at a pile of half-finished gear. "Is this... like, a normal costume thing?"

"I've got, like, four or five vests from various costumes." I shrug, twisting to avoid a stray pin. "Most of them are kinda busted up, honestly. And one’s missing, but, you know—probably lost in the abyss of my closet."

"Don’t we all have an abyss closet," Jordan mutters, rummaging in a box nearby. “Hey, you didn’t forget the boots, right, Amelia? We got you some custom trail runners with those gnarly lugs for traction?"

I whistle, impressed. "You guys really thought of everything, huh?"

Amelia steps back, surveying her work. "We tried. Oh, and we've added some hidden pockets for your, uh, less orthodox tools. Pepper spray, zip ties, that kind of thing."

"Speaking of which," Jordan says, reaching into a nearby box, "check this out." They pull out what looks like a dead ferret. "Fur trim. Totally waterproof. Super warm."

I raise an eyebrow. "And where exactly did you get that?"

Jordan grins. "Let's just say I know a guy who knows a guy. Don't worry, it's all above board. Mostly."

"Alright, I think we're done for now," Amelia says, stepping back. "Take a look in the mirror and let me know what you think."

I turn to face the full-length mirror in the corner, and for a moment, I hardly recognize myself. The beta costume is... sleek, winterized, without looking like it's too bulky. But it's padded, giving me a distinctly rectangular, genderless frame. Like a wolf in the wintertime.

"Wow," I breathe. "You guys... this is amazing."

Jordan and Amelia exchange a proud look. "Just promise us you'll be careful out there," Amelia says, her voice soft. "This suit can only do so much."

I nod, suddenly feeling the weight of violence to come. "I can't promise that,"

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

The smell of my mom's lasagna hits me as soon as I open the front door, and my stomach growls in response. For a moment, I'm just a normal kid coming home from school, looking forward to dinner with my family. Then reality crashes back in, and I have to take a deep breath to steady myself. I can do this. I can act normal.

"Sam? Is that you?" my mom calls from the kitchen.

"Yeah, it's me," I call back, kicking off my boots and hanging up my coat. "Sorry I'm a little late. Got caught up talking to some friends after school."

I head into the kitchen, where my mom is pulling the lasagna out of the oven. My dad is already at the table, nose buried in his tablet as usual. He looks up as I enter, smiling. "Hey, kiddo. How was school?"

"Oh, you know," I say, sliding into my seat. "The usual. We're starting a new unit in history about the Civil War. Should be interesting."

My mom sets the lasagna on the table, and for a few minutes, conversation is replaced by the sounds of eating. I'm grateful for the distraction, using the time to gather my thoughts. I need to keep things casual, normal. No need to make them suspicious.

"So," my mom says after a while, "any plans for the weekend? I was thinking we could maybe go see that new movie that just came out. What was it called? 'Captain Awesome' or something?"

I almost choke on my lasagna, caught off guard by the sudden mention of superheroes. "Uh, yeah, maybe," I manage after a moment. "I'll have to check with Jordan, see if they're free."

My dad looks up from his tablet, raising an eyebrow. "Everything okay, Sam? You seem a little... distracted."

I force a smile, hoping it looks more convincing than it feels. "Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about a big test coming up next week. You know how it is."

He nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. As the conversation moves on to other topics, I find myself drifting again, thinking about the costume and the meetings I still need to have. I blink, realizing my mom has asked me a question. "Sorry, what?"

She frowns slightly. "I asked if you wanted more lasagna. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Yeah, sorry," I say quickly. "Just... tired, I guess. And no thanks, I'm full. Actually, is it okay if I go up to my room? I've got some homework I should really get started on."

My parents exchange a look that I pretend not to notice. "Sure, honey," my mom says. "Just make sure you get some rest, okay?"

I nod, clearing my plate and heading upstairs. As soon as I'm in my room, I pull out my phone, firing off a quick text to Rashad. We need to meet, I type. Tomorrow?

His reply comes a few minutes later. Sure thing, little shark. See you then.

I flop back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. One more ally, hopefully. One step closer to being ready for whatever the Kingdom has planned. I just hope it's enough.