“So what the hell happened?” Chase asked.

They raced along the backstreets of One City, avoiding the busy areas where people had parked in the street to watch the destruction of their neighbouring City. They gazed upon the scene like they were admiring a firework display.

The large, balding man riding shotgun swivelled in his seat with significant effort. “Well, boy, you caught the eye o’ one bad motherfucker, is what happened. Fortunately for you, that bad motherfucker gone and fucked himself by fuckin’ over another nasty piece of work.”

Chase had to pause to unscramble exactly what he was being told. He hoped, for the sake of the media, that the guy wasn’t a public figure of any sort.

“Wise words from the Chief of the CIU,” Jamieson said, snorting. “We’re midway through the investigation, Chase, but we tacked onto some shady dealings that we can’t tell you too much about. Kim did most of the work, to be honest. You have her to thank.”

Kim shuffled in her seat, uncomfortable with the praise. Chase gave her hand a squeeze, saying a silent thank you. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get a full explanation of how she’d saved him, but he was content knowing she was a part of it.

For the time being, he was free.

*******

Seo-ah had to physically stop herself from telling Chase everything. It felt cruel — to him and her — that she had to keep her mouth shut.

After all, she’d done a pretty amazing job.

By himself, Jason Rowenthal was an easy target — the guy was so rich that he thought he ran the world and everyone in it. His brutal kill was overheard by an old retiree couple during a walk on the beach to commemorate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. At his lawyer’s behest, Rowenthal remained silent through the initial questioning, but it didn’t do much to help him. His efforts at cleaning up and moving the body were rudimentary at best, leaving DNA evidence and a clear story for the detectives to follow.

That part of the case was open and shut — a first-week recruit could’ve put it together — but when Seo-ah looked under the bed, she found more than just monsters.

Rowenthal’s construction company was hitting hard-times, and in an attempt to revitalise his fortune he’d made a number of investments into other industries and start-ups, most of which took his money and lost it. Getting desperate, he’d somehow latched onto Chase (Seo-ah suspected Rowenthal’s B-Rank son) and decided to go for a hail-mary.

It hadn’t gone well for Two City.

Figuring he couldn’t have achieved such a feat alone, Seo-ah and the rest of Jamieson’s team dug into all sorts of transactions and back-alley dealings between Rowenthal and some high-ups in various government agencies, plotting a series of accomplices, including one Tom Yulenby, an Executive Director from the Embassy who wore the same cream turtleneck in all of his profile photos.

They couldn’t check out each of the potential leaks by themselves, especially considering the slapdash nature of their team, but the Chief of the CIU was happy to lend his voice and power to their cause once they’d convinced him of how good he’d look in the news the next day.

A few calls to the right places went a long way. Once the Director of the Embassy confirmed of an ‘extraordinary rendition’ taking place on a ‘dangerous Hunter activist’, they knew they had the one.

The rest was history.

Seo-ah blushed thinking about the last few minutes of that history. She’d kissed Chase without really thinking about it, and he’d kissed her back, but was it the right move? Was it too cheesy? Did she really have to do it in front of the Chief of the CIU?

She had to wonder if she’d made enough of a splash for him to consider giving her old job back. The GRA wasn’t good enough for her — anyone could see that — and she’d already proved how useful she could be.

The CIU was where she belonged. She knew it, Jamieson knew it, Chase knew it.

Did anyone else matter?

*******

Chase was struggling to enjoy the festivities when there was so much on his mind.

The Two City Disaster had wrapped up days ago, leaving thousands dead, tens of thousands injured, and hundreds of thousands of civilians and Hunters displaced. The City was a warzone, and the clean-up process alone was projected to take months.

But none of that was Chase’s responsibility. Instead, he was stuck dealing with the unbelievable weight of being the name at the tip of everyone’s tongues.

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He tried to shift some of the attention to the group of Ultra Hunters that took down the boss, but the reporters wouldn’t have it. They practically lived outside the Ballistic office, constantly requesting an audience with anyone entering or exiting the building. He couldn’t even get any respite by going home — the reporters clogged so much of the footpath that he had to get a taxi to the house on the other side of the block, then jump over the back fence. It was exhausting, and taking a mental toll on Gramps, too. The old man couldn’t sit out the front reading his newspaper without being peppered with invasive questions.

It wasn’t all bad, though. With his Talent (or lack of one) out in the open, he was one step closer to his dream.

Taking Ballistic to its absolute peak.

Jenny had already dreamed up a few different ways they could recruit and train Talentless Hunters to use weapons safely and efficiently. She’d employed a lawyer to work for them part-time — a semi-retired lady named Marg who’d bounced around various areas of the legal system throughout her long career. Marg was busy setting them up with a patent for Herb’s creations, writing a more rigorous company constitution, and making the various inquiries needed to confirm Chase’s status in the eyes of the courts. The current view was that his actions during and following the Two City Disaster had saved countless lives, and that was to be recognised.

Knowing that the whole disaster might not have happened if it weren’t for his existence, Chase wasn’t sure he’d done enough. At the end of the day, they’d traded thousands of lives and really only achieved the incarceration of one terrible, greedy man.

Chase vowed to right that wrong.

He didn’t know exactly how he’d do it, but when he saw and heard footage of the Ultra’s battle with the boss, he knew that being more powerful was a step in the right direction. He and Jamie were competent fighters against the vast majority of monsters, but what was the point if they were completely useless against the biggest, baddest enemies? He wouldn’t go through his life living in fear of the next Disaster.

No, he’d face it and destroy it.

“What’s that scowl you’ve got going on, Chase?” David asked. “Marla? Robin? Someone grab our fearless leader a beer! You’re eighteen, right?”

“Yes, David. And you stay on the lemonades, alright? You’re all technically my employees, so I’ve got a duty of care over you guys.”

David frowned. “Oo, yeah, about that. You might not want to know what Jamie and Marcus are doing in the living room.”

“Aw shit. Pause on that drink.”

He got up from the chair he’d been lounging in and left the pool area. They’d rented out a fancy holiday home on the south-western coast of New Melbourne — both a thank-you-gift to the Hunters for risking their lives as well as a much-needed Guild Retreat. Three nights of all expenses paid luxury was doing a great job of taking everyone’s mind off the tragedy. Marla and Robin were still working back up to their usual selves after Lamonsoff’s death. He felt especially sorry for Marla, who’d lost another friend — Pete — in the Majesty Raid that went wrong some months before.

He strolled through the perfectly manicured hedge maze, pausing briefly at a white cane bridge that looked over the expanse of the gardens. An idyllic stream ran beneath it, gurgling as pumped water was circulated on the same track, on and on and on. The house was secluded, and even had a small granny (or grandpa) flat out the side, where Gramps was staying. Leaving him at home with the media vultures on his doorstep felt wrong.

Chase could see the two boys jousting each other with pool cues even from outside the house, courtesy of the massive windows framing the impressive living room. They’d moved the couches to the sides and laid out three mattresses in a line across the room. As he darted up the steps and entered, they each ran from one end of the mattresses, meeting each other in the middle and jabbing each other in the chest. Jamie went to the ground groaning, and Marcus stood victorious, merely thumping his fist into the spot where Jamie had grazed him.

“What are you two donkeys doing?” Chase asked.

“Playing H-O-R-S-E!” Marcus replied. “Each time you lose a round, you take off one piece of clothing. First is the shirt, then the shorts, then each sock and finally, the pièce de résistance, your undies.”

Chase glanced across at Mia, who was sipping a mimosa. She was using her shield as a plate, with salami, cheese, biscuits and beetroot dip stacked high.

“At what point are you going to leave, Mia?”

“I’m staying,” she replied. “My bet is they don’t have the balls to strip in front of me.”

At her challenge, Jamie leapt forward and tore off his t-shirt. Below it, he was wearing a white singlet.

Mia simply stared him down. “Go on.”

“…No.”

Satisfied that he wouldn’t have a workplace harassment suit on his hands, Chase left them to it. He went down a long, creaking hallway and into the home cinema. It was a luxurious place, with an extensive sound system and huge plush seats that extended back until they were basically beds. Kim, Herb, and Robin’s partner, Yusef, were watching an old slapstick comedy movie while drinking tea and nibbling at assorted chocolates. Jenny and her partner, Hayao, were nowhere to be seen.

“Any good?” Chase asked. “I thought you’d watch something with a bit more oomph, you know? Blast the sound system a bit.”

Kim tilted her head back in her seat, looking at him upside down. “Nuh-uh,” she said through a mouthful of chocolate, “Robin’s choice. Herb was thinking a superhero movie next.”

“Oh shoot, someone made my life story into a movie?” He grinned at her. “Get it? Cos I’m a superhero?”

“Leave.”

He did as ordered, satisfied that everyone in the house was safe and accounted for. Or as safe as two eighteen-year-olds could be with pool cues in their hands.

Just as he left the home cinema, the doorbell chimed. It sounded like an ancient gong and reverberated through all the halls of the house. He turned on the spot a few times.

Kim poked her head out into the hall. “You got that?”

“Yeah, just trying to work out which way it is to the front door. This place is stupid massive.”

“That one, I think.” She pointed at an arched door with notches on the woodwork and names next to each measurement. “First left, then second right.”

“Cheers.” He followed the maze of halls, eventually ending up at the lavish front door. Two snarling statues depicting some kind of lion-goat amalgamation guarded the door, an ancient vase at each base. He swung the door open, wondering who could possibly have found them in this secluded mansion.

As it turned out, two people had found them. One was Nebula, which was a surprise all by itself, but the other was a slightly older woman whose face seemed familiar but not quite obvious. She dressed as if she was cosplaying as an emerald; green boots, green skirt, green blouse, and would you guess it, green earrings. The only hint of a secondary colour was a chartreuse ribbon tying her hair into a ponytail.

“Hi…Nebula,” he started, turning to her friend. “And I don’t believe we’ve met. You are…?”

“Lucia Sanabria. Pleased to meet you.”

Chase took a step back, nearly bashing into a priceless vase.

There was an Ultra-Hunter on his doorstep.