Saturday, October 10
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“I can’t believe they assigned us to the Foothills,” Fursona complained in my ear as I walked the cracked sidewalk in my Understudy Costume.
“At least they warned us not to hit the East Plains district,” I replied. That was where, according to the Triad, a group of recently-unretired villains had set up their domain. Together, they were a big enough threat that none of the local heroes could handle them except Stella-Lunar, and they’d made it clear they were just re-living their glory days, so no one wanted to mess with them. Especially me—I had a good idea that it was most of the Anti-Nap League. The Foothills seemed much safer.
The Foothills sat right against the mountains, half-in and half-outside the wall, and if there was a single district besides Thornton that’d be considered run-down, it was this one. It wasn’t a slum—not quite—but compared to University’s clean, quiet streets and the shiny towers of Mid-Town, it left a lot to be desired.
It also felt like home, a fact I kept reminding Fursona of. “You might have grown up in Tortuga West, beach-bum, but some of us lived in a trailer park in a small town outside the walls. This is pretty nice compared to a bunch of Riverside.”
“Believe me, I am aware,” Fursona said. “Who’d they say the villain was out here?”
I shrugged. “We’re in contested territory. There’s a local hero, but no one’s seen him in a week or so. One of Lord Destructo’s lieutenants is making a push here, too, and Quickvine’s the local villain, but he only just made the majors. He’s not really a contender if Lord D or McHammer show up.”
Ahead of me, a few people stood on a street corner. One shot a stink-eye at me and disappeared into a strip mall. I didn’t pay her much attention; we’d been getting rough looks since we arrived.
“I get the feeling most of the locals don’t love heroes,” I said. “Kind of spooky, to be honest.”
“Agreed,” Fursona replied. She banked overhead, taking a street a few blocks ahead of me. “Do you think Quickvine’s running some sort of PR campaign or mind control?”
“My bet’s on PR. If he was a mind control specialist, he’d be as big as Mindstorm, and we’d have heard of him before now.” I walked toward the rest of the street-corner-standers. “I’m going to ask around a little. Can you cover me from above?”
“Sure, you got it,” Fursona said, turning and drifting on a thermal.
I walked toward the smoking group, putting on my best public relations face. “Hello! I’m Magical Girl Under—“
“You’re two weeks late, hero,” one woman said around a cigarette butt. “Why don’t you just go back to Mid-Town or somewhere you care about and leave the Foothills alone?”
“Yeah. Life’s not great here, with Quickvine, but at least he lets us live our lives as long as we give him tribute,” another man said
“Wait, you’re giving a villain tribute? Like medieval peasants? Doesn’t that strike you as flawed somehow?” I asked, incredulous.
The woman rolled her eyes, then spat. “Of course, but it’s either pay tribute to Quickvine or pay it to the Tokyexico government, and he’s a local boy. He knows what’s up here, and once he’s got control, maybe he’ll make life better for us.”
“I don’t think he will,” I said. “I think he’s like most villains—in it for himself. If you follow him, you’re just another hench.”
“Better than unemployed,” she shot back. “Look, kid. Your heart’s in the right place, but it’s been bad out here in the Foothills—almost as bad as Thornton. So how about you take your ass, walk it back to the city, and let us deal with our own problems?”
“Yeah, fuck you, supe!” the guy who’d talked earlier said. The other started heckling and jeering, and I turned on my heel and walked away, then took off to join Fursona.
It was going to be a long patrol out here.
◄▼►
Sunday, October 11
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“Please, stay back! The Triad’s dealing with Doctor Danger’s lair, and we don’t want anyone getting hurt when it ex—er, if it explodes,” I said to the reporters pressing in around Fursona and me. We stood outside a low warehouse in the shadow of the Triad’s Triangle—though, to be fair, half the city was in its shadow this late in the day. Inside, Doctor Danger’s factory pumped out bombs, missiles, and explosives by the ton.
We’d found him by accident—sort of. An explosion had ripped apart part of the street and tipped us off to his base’s location, and an Episode had started not thirty seconds later. By then, we’d been patrolling the Parker district for hours, and I breathed a sigh of relief as we called in the Triad. Finally, I’d be able to do some support work.
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Or not.
Instead of hunting down lieutenants, we stood outside of what Underdelver had confirmed was Doctor Danger’s only exit while the Triad stormed the underground lair. Occasionally, an explosion caught the gathered reporters’ attention, but for the most part, they only had one thing to watch.
Us.
“Magical Girl Understudy, how did you find Doctor Danger’s lair?” A reporter shouted.
“Well, we knew he had to be around here somewhere, and my, uh, partner Fursona and I had been asking around. The warehouses in the Parker district have been abandoned for a while, so we figured we’d poke around, and that’s when the explosion went off.”
“Do you have any insight on what’s going on inside? The Triad’s winning, right?”
Fursona cleared her throat. “We can’t give out that information, other than that the Triad is definitely winning. Golden Goose does not need to get involved in Parker.”
“How do you justify your attempts to keep us from reporting on the truth about what’s going on in there!? This is an outrage. We’re press—we should be able to get footage from inside the lair!”
I groaned. “Ma’am, the lair is a live explosive weapons factory, and we don’t know how big it is. Frankly, we’re probably all inside of the blast radius if Bud Lightbeam misses a shot, so there’s no way I can let you get closer.”
“My sources say you’re working as support auxiliaries with the Triad. How does that work?”
I rubbed my temples—I was starting to get a headache—and nodded thoughtfully. “How does being an auxiliary work? Well, Tele-Portal, Lightbeam, and Underdelver have the firepower to root out Doctor Danger and his lieutenants, so most of what we do is keep a perimeter so you don’t get hurt while they’re working, make sure there aren’t any E—er, civilians—in the danger zone, and fight any lieutenants that break free. It’s pretty simple work, or it’s supposed to be.”
It wasn’t right now, that was for sure. Fursona stood near the door, back facing me in case anyone tried to leave the warehouse. Keeping that perimeter tight was important, but it left me to face the brunt of the reporters myself.
A reporter asked if they were in danger, and I struggled to suppress a groan. “Yes. Everyone here is in danger, and that’s why we can’t let you inside. You should all back up about two hundred yards, like I said earlier, but you won’t listen to me!”
Something exploded under our feet as if to punctuate my words, and the crowd took a few nervous steps back, muttering. Then, before I could press the advantage, they settled back down, pressing in around me.
“God dammit,” I whispered. These reporters were going to get someone killed. Probably themselves.
◄▼►
Monday, October 12
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“I’m starting to hate support work,” I muttered to Fursona as we ate a snack in an empty park in the Evergreen district. Despite being next to the Foothills, Evergreen didn’t have the same worn, beaten-down look. Instead, the streets seemed clean, other than signs of supervillain fights. The people were mostly happy, and an actual police presence briefed us on what was happening here.
Acid Burn, an up-and-comer in the majors and an offshoot of 3V1L, had been warring over the district. Everywhere we looked, MIRACLE crews patched holes in the roads, fixed burn marks on buildings’ facades, and worked hard to erase the signs of the previous night’s battle. The 3V1L subsidiary was slowly but surely losing, and I wondered just how much damage Golden Goose had really done to their organization.
Not that Acid Burn was a slouch. She’d been a Haze-Matt lieutenant before Golden Goose had killed him, but without any of the villain’s eccentricities. Instead, she was a Genius, but not the kind who tinkered and perfected a few weapons at a time. Instead, she had one solution—literally—that she handled all her problems with.
Unfortunately for everyone in Evergreen, that solution had a PH of 0.
So, as our final stop of the week, we were in Evergreen, scouting for the big shots. We’d started in the residential areas, where last night’s battle had ended. Maybe, I thought, we’d find something there. But there was nothing. Everywhere we looked, signs of a villain-on-villain power struggle greeted us, but we couldn’t find any hints of where they’d actually gone. So now we were taking a quick break and pushing toward City Hall.
As we sat, I pulled a tarot card from the deck Bee had given me for Christmas. [Card Curio] activated as I looked at The Tower. That meant sudden change or disaster. “We’re in the right place. Let’s try left, but get ready for…something. Something bad, most likely. Probably, oh, I don’t know? An ambush by an unexpected enemy.”
“That sounds great, Understudy. Anything but more walking. There’s no way the Triad can say we haven’t had a presence in Evergreen.”
“Yeah, right?” I said, packing up the remains of our snack and heading down the hill toward the district’s center. “Honestly? We’ve done enough this week. We should take it easy, focus on school, and see if we can catch Livestream out somewhere. Focus on our own stuff for a bit before Rocko gets frustrated.”
“Rocko’s always frustrated,” Bee said. She’d eaten inside her suit—yogurt, pudding, or something equally semi-liquid and slurpable. ‘I’m shocked he hasn’t—“
“Shhhh.” I held up a hand, cutting my partner off. Someone was chanting in the distance, and I could smell the faint but distinct smell of a burning building. “This way! Hurry!”
I ran toward the shouting, yelling chanters, rounded a corner, and stopped. “Oh shit.”
“Oh, shit is right. Let’s go!” Fursona said.
City Hall was on fire. The brick-and-marble building wasn’t in any danger of a collapse, but its third-story windows belched black smoke out into the afternoon air. A siren went off in the distance, then another, while a fire alarm blared out a relentless screeching beep in the building. But that wasn’t the worst part.
There, arrayed in front of the burning City Hall, was the Tokyexico University APPEAL chapter. Their signs had changed—now they read ‘Our City, Our Safety, Our Voices’ and ‘Become Your Own Hero: Reject Superpowers.’ Su-Bin led them in the same chants and shouts she’d shouted during the Orientation Episode as she stood in front of them, yellow T-shirt brilliant in the sun and a look of fury on her face.
But that wasn’t the worst part, either. If it was, I’d have just walked away and let the fire department handle it. APPEAL and I hadn’t ever gotten along; just because their arguments made some sense didn’t mean they weren’t out to get me.
No, the worst part faced the protestors.
The villain looked more and more furious by the second. A scowl plastered her face above the respirator across her mouth and nose, and she wore a gigantic tank of greenish liquid strapped to her back. “Clear the fuck off, or I’ll let you have it! First and last warning!”
I didn’t have much of a choice; I had to keep the Extras safe, even if they hated me. “Acid Burn? The curtain’s closing on your crime spree!” As she turned toward me, face a rictus of anger, I pressed my button.