Grief 7.12

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The wind howled as Greg—no, Sir Prodigy—swung Gram in a precise arc, the glowing blade slicing through the air with an audible whump. The wind blade shot forward, razor-sharp and shimmering faintly, before it slammed into its target.

A dry, skeletal tree in the clearing practically exploded into splinters, the upper half teetering before collapsing to the ground with a dull crash. Dust and bits of bark floated lazily in the aftermath.

From across the clearing, Lady Bug gave a long, exaggerated hum, her voice playful but carrying a tone of appraisal. "ehhh... 7.5 out of 10. better than the last one, though."

White knight turned to face her, tilting his head as if considering the critique. "My lady, I take offense. 'tis at least an 8. At least."

She giggled, perched casually on a broken chunk of concrete, her legs swinging idly like she had all the time in the world. Her black-and-red costume caught the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, but her expression—what he could see of it under her mask—was all mischievous curiosity. "Nope, you gotta earn the 8. I need more pizzazz. More... I dunno. Flair?"

His grin stretched wide beneath the mask, though he kept his voice steady, deep, and full of dramatic gravitas. "Very well, Lady Bug. Thou shalt have thy flair. Prepare thyself to be awed."

"Bold claim," she shot back, the smirk audible. "Don't mess it up."

Gram hummed faintly in his grip as he took a step forward, then another, his posture loose but deliberate. He raised the sword overhead, its golden glow intensifying. Focus. The air around him seemed to shift, the wind stirring against his armor and pushing his cape into a wild dance.

With a sudden burst of movement, he launched himself forward, boots digging into the earth before he swung the sword down with a sweeping motion. The blade hissed through the air, releasing another crescent of compressed wind. It carved through the brittle trunk of a nearby dead tree like butter, splitting it clean in half. The two pieces toppled in opposite directions with satisfying symmetry.

The sound of the impact faded, leaving the clearing in silence except for the faint rustle of disturbed leaves.

Lady Bug stood now, her arms crossed as she surveyed the scene. "All right," she said after a moment, drawing out the pause just to mess with him. "Now that was cool. 10 out of 10."

He bowed dramatically, waving the sword with an exaggerated flourish. "Wind blade," he announced, the words dripping with cheeky confidence. "Trademark pending, of course."

Her laughter came quick and easy, melodic in a way that made the effort feel worth it. "Okay, knight boy. I'll give you that one. Nice work."

He straightened up, resting Gram on his shoulder with a smooth motion, though his chest puffed out slightly as he absorbed the praise. "Well, my lady, I am fairly cool myself, as thou hast surely noticed."

Lady Bug arched a brow beneath her mask, tilting her head. "Fairly cool? That's not very knightly of you. Don't knights have, like, absolute confidence or whatever?"

"Oh, verily," he corrected, slipping seamlessly back into his over-the-top persona. "And 'tis a word of great import, signifying… uh… chilliness of the highest caliber!"

She doubled over laughing, her hands gripping her knees. "Those are two different words, Sir Prodigy. 'Fairly' and 'verily' don't mean the same thing. Not even close."

He waved her off with a dismissive hand, his tone mock-offended. "Pshaw! Mere trifles! A knight of my renown concerns himself not with such linguistic technicalities. My coolness speaks for itself!"

They stared at each other for a beat, her mock sternness against his unyielding smirk. The tension shattered as they both broke into laughter, loud and unrestrained, echoing across the clearing. Birds startled from nearby trees, scattering into the sky.

"Okay, okay," Lady Bug managed between breaths, wiping under her mask. "That was good. I'm honestly glad I came to this."

Greg tilted his head, his earlier embarrassment gone as he leaned on his sword like an actor posing for a renaissance painting. "And I, fair lady, am glad thou didst heed mine call. though, y'know, I was just gonna be here anyway."

He gestured broadly to the clearing, the ground littered with fallen branches and the telltale scars of his training. His eyes flicked over to the gouged out and fallen trees, most of the remaining arboreal figures in this park — if you could really call it that any more — long dead from pollution or mismanagement. Greg honestly wasn't sure how you even killed a tree through sheer neglect, let alone a park's worth; he was pretty sure they kinda handled themselves. "A knight's work is never done, after all."

She hopped off her perch, landing lightly on her toes and brushing off her gloves. "Yeah, about that. When you said noon, I thought you meant another lunch date or something. This was fun too, but, uh…" Lady Bug tilted her head, teasing. "Maybe bring food next time? Just a thought."

His grin widened. "Noted, my lady."

Greg wasn't sure how it happened, honestly.

I mean, sure, they had hung out before, and it was fun, but he hadn't expected...

Well, expected this.

Sir Prodigy planted his feet firmly, standing as if he were preparing for a royal portrait, the tails of his cape fluttering just enough in the breeze to make him feel like he nailed the dramatic timing.

With one hand, he placed a fist to his chest in a gesture that he imagined was equal parts knightly and superheroic, and with the other, he dismissed Gram back to his inventory. That's satisfying every time, he thought as he watched the glowing blade dissolve into a spray of blue pixels, the visual effect reminding him of fireworks—mini ones, just for him. Or sparklers. Sparklers are rad too.

"My fair lady of House Bug," he began in his most regal tone, letting the words roll out like a Shakespearean actor auditioning for the role of his life, "let it be known that I would gladly have obtained you sustenance…" a beat, and then a shrug that broke the illusion of gravitas as he added, "...but you said you were cool, soooo… yeah."

Lady Bug folded her arms, a lopsided grin spreading across her face. A laugh bubbled out of her, bright and unrestrained, breaking through the quiet of the abandoned park like sunlight through a grimy window. "You're such a dork," she said between giggles, wiping under the edge of her mask. "Seriously, though, the sword thing? Ten out of ten. No notes."

Greg winked again. "Thank you."

"But yeah, I said I was cool, not that I don't eat," she teased, her eyes flicking toward where Gram had disappeared, the twinkle behind her mask unmistakable.

"Fair point, fair point," Sir Prodigy conceded, watching her carefully, though the corner of his mouth curved up despite himself. "But let us not forget: I bestowed upon thee chocolate—a knight's finest offering."

"Which I ate," she said, mock-defensively, "because duh. Also because chocolate is a girl's best friend."

Greg tilted his head slightly, holding onto his persona but letting his confusion show just enough to be deliberate. "Wait… I thought that was diamonds?"

"And how, exactly," Lady Bug rolled her eyes. Okay, yeah, totally saw that coming, Greg thought, watching her gesture like she was dismissing the question before it even landed. "Am I supposed to eat diamonds, silly knight?"

"You'd find a way." Greg nodded solemnly, ignoring the way her laughter almost made him crack up too. "But the wisdom of your words is undeniable, my lady."

For a moment, her hands dropped to her sides, and she stared at him with her mask slightly tilted. "Do you ever stop talking?" she asked, not unkindly, though her tone was full of fake exasperation.

He tapped a gloved finger to his chin, as if genuinely pondering the question. "Not so much as 'stop,'" he replied slowly, "but sometimes, when the mood is right, I pause dramatically."

Her laughter came again, but this time she turned slightly to hide it, like she didn't want him to catch how much she was enjoying herself. Her hand lifted as if to adjust her mask, but she froze halfway through, letting it fall back down instead. "You're ridiculous," she said, the words half a mutter and half a compliment.

Greg took a small, theatrical step closer, pointing at her with exaggerated purpose. "What I am, my lady," he declared, "is a force of nature. Also–" he added after a brief pause, then leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Wait. Did you just say lunch date?"

Lady Bug froze. Just for a split second, but Greg caught it—her legs stopped swinging, and her head jerked like a needle scratching off a record. "Nooo... I mean, I didn't mean, I meant—wait." she floundered for a moment, then straightened. "Why did you pick noon, anyway? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Greg blinked behind his mask, tilting his head slightly. Okay, curveball. Where's she going with this? He shrugged and tilted his head further, letting his posture shift into something more casual as he shot back, "Shouldn't you?"

For a moment, she froze like a deer caught in headlights, her shoulders tensing visibly.

"...Not important," she muttered quickly, waving her hand in a way that definitely screamed totally important. Her posture shifted, tension creeping into her shoulders. she stood up abruptly, brushing nonexistent dust off her gloves, and turned away like she'd just remembered something fascinating about the dead grass.

Greg raised an eyebrow beneath his mask, his instincts kicking in. File that away for later, do not push. He tilted his head again, letting his tone soften just enough to sound more curious than prying. "What's so bad about school, anyway? I mean, unless they gave you homework over the weekend or something. That's just cruel and unusual punishment."

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Lady Bug didn't answer right away, hand lifting to fidget with the edge of her glove. "Nothing bad," she said finally, but the words came out clipped, like she was trying to shut the door on the topic before it even opened.

Weird. Greg didn't say anything right away, just watched her fidget. It was weird seeing her like this, all hesitating and awkward. She was usually so composed, at least when she wasn't cracking jokes or rating his sword slashes. Her mask hid her face, but her body language practically shouted something's up.

Greg took a step closer, his boots crunching on the gravel path. "Okay, so, what's your excuse?" he asked, keeping his tone light, even teasing. No point in pushing too hard.

People got squirrelly when you pushed too hard.

"I don't need an excuse," she replied quickly, still not looking at him. Her voice was steadier now, but the words came too fast, like she was trying to get ahead of the conversation. "I just—I'm out here. Same as you."

Greg tilted his head, pretending to consider her answer. "Uh-huh. Right. Totally normal to skip school for abandoned park hangouts. Super common."

She spun around, hands on her hips. "And you're the poster boy for responsible school attendance?"

"I mean, no." Greg spread his arms in a gesture that was equal parts shrug and guilty as charged. "But I'm me. Skipping school is practically in my DNA."

"And I'm me," she countered, her tone sharp but not angry. "Maybe I wanted some air. Maybe I wanted to hit stuff. Maybe I didn't feel like sitting in some boring class while people—"

She cut herself off, and Greg felt the shift in her tone like a pebble skipping off a still pond. It was subtle, but it was there, the way her words trailed off like she'd just yanked the handbrake on her train of thought.

Yeah, definitely something up.

He didn't press, though.

Instead, he let his tone shift back to playful consciously, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, no judgment here. After all, you're in a park with the one and only Sir Prodigy, the White Knight of Brockton. Clearly, you've got excellent taste in how to spend your day."

Lady Bug snorted, crossing her arms but relaxing slightly. "Yeah, sure. Best decision ever."

"Obviously." Greg grinned, waving his hand around with a burst of diffused aerokinesis. "Now, fair lady, shall we continue? Or shall I leave the next tree unscathed in your honor?"

"Oh, don't hold back on my account," she replied, the teasing edge creeping back into her voice. "Besides, I want to see if you can top your last one. You're at, what, a solid average of nine? Think you've got another ten in you?"

"My lady," he said, lifting said hand with a flourish as air whirled around it, "I am all tens. Just you watch." He gestured broadly to the park, his voice rising in mock grandeur. "We are knights and champions, my lady, and this—" he waved at the empty clearing with dramatic flair, "—is our court!"

That earned him a soft snort, and she crossed her arms again, though the tension in her posture seemed to ease just a little. "Your court, huh?" she asked, her voice lighter now. "Looks more like a graveyard for old trees."

"Semantics," he replied smoothly, brushing off the comment with a flick of his wrist. "Besides, the trees are better off this way. Now they can be… modern art. Avant-garde, if you will."

Lady Bug rolled her eyes but couldn't keep the small smile off her face. "You're lucky you're funny," she muttered, though her tone held no real heat.

Greg grinned behind his mask, taking a mental victory lap. You're damn right I'm lucky.

Sir Prodigy spun one hand lazily, the faint hum of buzzing aerokinesis spreading its vibrating edge across his entire hand. Smirking, he raised his free hand theatrically toward a crumbling park bench. "Observe, my lady, as I demonstrate... finesse."

He flicked his wrist, and the bench didn't so much explode as it collapsed, a loud crack splitting the air as the backrest gave out first, toppling sideways into the grass. Splinters and screws popped loose in a chaotic burst, carried by a short, sharp gust of wind that sent the pieces tumbling a few feet away. Greg grinned behind his mask, watching the debris scatter unpredictably, like confetti at a party no one wanted to attend.

Not bad, he thought, even as one of the screws pinged off his boot.

Lady Bug gasped softly, the sound barely audible, but it was enough to make his chest swell with pride.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, leaning forward. "You're actually... controlling it? No giant wind cannon this time?"

Greg gave an exaggerated bow, letting the bench fragments drop with a controlled thud. "I am nothing if not adaptable. Behold: the subtle art of aerokinesis."

"Subtle, huh?" her tone was teasing, but he caught the genuine spark of curiosity in her voice. "You're not gonna send a tree into orbit again?"

"Hey," he replied, pointing his hand at her like it was a teacher's ruler. "That was one time. And technically, it was a sapling."

She snorted, her shoulders shaking with laughter, and Greg decided that was officially his favorite sound.

Without thinking, he twirled his hand again, summoning a small whirlwind that kicked up leaves and dust around him in a miniature tornado. "But no," he added, his tone turning mock-serious, "Today is about precision. About elegance. About—"

The whirlwind fizzled out abruptly as his mana dipped a bit too low than he felt safe with for practice. He staggered slightly, muttering, "Damn it." Greg shook his head, trying to recover his balance. "Okay, so maybe 'elegance' needs work."

Lady Bug chuckled, hopping off her concrete perch to stand closer to him. "Still cool. Very anime of you."

Greg straightened, chest puffing out again. "Always anime. I live by the code of—"

A sharp brrring cut through the moment, and Greg froze mid-sentence, the sound pulling him back to reality like a record scratch. His hand instinctively went to his belt, pulling out a bright red clamshell phone.

He flipped it open with a flick of his wrist, glancing at the caller id.

The grin under his mask faded.

"Uh... one sec," he muttered, turning away from Lady Bug and raising the phone to his ear. His playful tone vanished as he spoke. "Yeah?"

Greg flipped open the phone, already bracing for Takeshi's voice to hit like a panicked bullet train. He didn't even get a chance to say hello.

"Boss! It's me!" Takeshi's voice came through fast, hurried, like the teenager was double-timing it on adrenaline and bad coffee. "Look, we've got a situation. Empire guys—just saw a truck near the docks."

Greg's eyes narrowed slightly, though his voice stayed flat. "Uh-huh."

"Big, white, plain as day, but I caught the plate. It's theirs, no question. They're moving in your area."

Greg exhaled through his nose, his grip on the phone tightening. "Uh-huh."

"I mean, it's quiet right now, but you know how they do this. Scout first, hit later. You gotta move quick."

"Uh-huh."

"I only saw maybe three, but they're armed. Not subtle, either. This ain't random, boss."

Greg glanced at Lady Bug out of the corner of his eye, the faint rustle of her skirt catching the breeze as she studied him curiously. "Uh-huh."

"You want me to call Boss Seo?" Takeshi didn't even wait for an answer, barreling on. "No, scratch that, you're closer. Boss, this could get bad fast."

Greg's jaw tightened, but his tone remained steady, almost bored. "Uh-huh."

"It's your call."

Greg's frown deepened. No quest notifications yet, but that didn't mean much. Takeshi's intel was rarely wrong, and the absence of a quest probably just meant the bad stuff hadn't started yet. Great. So now I'm playing prophet instead of knight.

"Got it," he said curtly. "I'm on my way."

He snapped the phone shut and dropped it into his pocket with a sigh, running a hand through his hair under his helmet. So much for fun.

"What's up?" Lady Bug's voice pulled him back, softer now, her earlier laughter replaced with concern. She took a step closer, her head tilting slightly as she studied him.

Greg hesitated, glancing between her and the phone. "I have to..." his voice trailed off, and he felt the weight of his other mask—Hardkour—pressing at the edges of his mind.

No jokes now. No Sir Prodigy. Just focus.

Lady Bug nodded, reading more in his silence than he'd intended to share. "It's okay," she said gently. "I need to head out too." Her smile was small but steady, the kind you gave someone when you didn't want them to worry about you.

Greg managed a nod, his usual bravado dampened by the shift in atmosphere. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice quieter than he wanted it to be. Then, louder: "You should. Don't let me keep you."

She didn't argue, just gave him one last look before stepping back.

In the span of a few seconds, Greg was airborne, a gust of wind carrying him up and over the crumbling park. His cape whipped around him as he accelerated, aerokinesis propelling his glide, the world below shrinking into a blur.

As the wind roared past, he let his mind race with it. Empire guys. Territory creeping. Takeshi sounded spooked.

His gloves tightened as his hands clenched into fists even as his thoughts spiraled. Okay, calm down. It's probably nothing. Probably just a patrol or something stupid. But if it's not...

He shook his head, pushing the thought away. Doesn't matter. I'll handle it. Just like always.

Ahead, the city unfolded like a patchwork quilt of concrete and steel, the docks looming in the distance. Greg adjusted his trajectory, his movements sharp and deliberate, the playful knight from the park replaced by something harder, something sharper. The echoes of Lady Bug's laughter lingered in his mind, but they were already fading, drowned out by the familiar thrum of adrenaline.

No rest for the cool, I guess.