Ravela watched Atla enter, oblivious to the intruder in her office.

The light turned on and Ravela spotted the paper bag the journalist carried with her. Deciding to make herself known, Ravela said, “You know, fast food in your line of work will go right to your hip.”

The woman twitched visibly.

“Oh dear, oh dear. My apologies, Mrs. Jaest. A woman with your hobbies ought to be more cautious.”

“Michael Manus, why, on this green earth, are you in my office? How are you in my office?” The woman went from confused to angry in seconds.

Ravela held up the folder she was currently reading. “Well, I came to visit you, but you weren’t here. So I settled in and got comfortable. Your chair is great, by the way, and I couldn’t help but notice that the reading materials you got for your waiting friends are intriguing.”

Taking her feet off the table, Ravela sat upright. She chose to ignore Atla who took in the files on the desk and drawer still open. Realizing which folders Ravela had in front of her, Atla straightened up too and pulled her shoulders back.

“You have no business rifling through my files. I think you should leave.”

Ravela wasn’t surprised that Atla didn’t take kindly to her files being read.

“Relax, it isn’t like I don’t understand when someone keeps their knowledge in writing. I am somewhat disappointed though.” Ravela stood from her seated position. Placing the folder of the bunker in the middle of the desk, she picked up a pen while looking at the clock. “ You see, some things are best kept in one's memory. For example, that time I saved a reckless young journalist from ending up inside some gangster's trunk, dead. I took her into my suite, keeping her safe from a whole city of crooks searching for her. I even got her a train ticket, the stuff she wanted from the dump she called her apartment, and gave her enough money to have a new start elsewhere.”

Ravela wrote down today’s date and 8 pm on the Bunker folder.

“So, I can’t keep notes about you? That’s not how I work, Michael,” Atla responded, her eyes narrowing.

Dropping the pen on the folder, Ravela held out her hands in an apologetic manner. “Now, I didn’t say you can’t keep records of me. I just advise that how we first met being known would be most inopportune for me. Think of it as a favor to a friend.”

“Seeing as you broke into my office, I am not so sure we are friends.” Atla retorted.

Ravela slowly walked around the desk. “Well, not to dwell on details, but you might want to finish your dinner in peace. I have a matter to attend to and you might have a story if you got just the right timing.”

“Now hold on a minute, you don’t break into my office and just walk away like you own this place.”

Ravela stopped at the door. “Oh, I don’t? Hmm, that is an interesting notion. I shall take that under advisement. But considering how I have the key to every lock, I don’t feel like I did break in.” With that, she left without giving Atla the chance to respond.

She had a more pressing matter to attend to. Ravela had some retaliatory justice to dish out, and the poor souls who’d have to take that stand-in beatdown for Morbolfr won’t know what hit them.

Walking out of the building she strolled through the city. The days were noticeably getting longer. It wasn’t as dark at dinnertime as it had been during the winter. She couldn’t wait for the summer to return, the winter reminded her too much of unpleasant times. Walking through the streets, Ravela prepared herself for the confrontation. Her goals had to be solid.

Enter the Bunker in fashion. Round up the criminals inside. Gather them and their profits and produce out in the street. Hand them over to the police and get out of there without causing the cops a headache. No fighting the cops, no killing any of the goons, and ideally no cops trying to arrest her for her vigilante action.

Ravela would see how that would go after The Bomber’s and mafia’s recent terror on the city. She tried to convince herself that she was doing something useful and satisfying at the same time.

Testing the waters for herself, Laena, and Safora in equal measure. Not at all a simple revenge beatdown. That would be beneath her, she thought, not without a bit of biting sarcasm entering her thought. Stopping at a crosswalk Ravela saw her reflection in the windows of the passing cars.

Michael was standing there with a slight frown on his face. Blinking, she felt her vision distorted. The next moment her true self was standing right behind her looking over her shoulder, whispering something without making a noise. Ravela held the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes.

There was a whistle in the distance and it was getting louder. Shaking her head, she tried to pull herself together.

After a moment the pressure in her head subsided. Opening her eyes, Ravela saw that the light had turned green, and as she was about to take a step onto the crosswalk it switched back to red.

She must have zoned out for longer than a few seconds to have missed the green light. Ravela stretched her neck. It was way too early in the evening to feel this tense, and she didn’t do any hard work so far.

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After finally making it across the street, Ravela spotted the Bunker. There was an entire street packed with lookouts. She saw people in windows with camera equipment from afar.

They were well hidden, but to her eyes, they might as well stand in a fully lit studio. It would seem that more people were watching this place than just Atla Jaest and rival gangs.

Ravela stood on the corner of the street looking at her watch. She could infiltrate the building over the roof, but where would be the satisfaction in that?

She looked at the front entrance with its four guards and a camera of either police or another agency sitting in the fifth story across from the goons.

What wonderful seats they had for Ravela’s little show. Straightening her suit jacket, she walked leisurely toward the main entrance. This face was made to be printed on wanted posters, smiling and winking into the camera as she let Michael vanish and reappear as she pleased. Michael would be the face of a vigilante unbothered by who knew his face.

One of the more observant lookouts spotted her walking down the street with a bit too much purpose to pass as a normal pedestrian. Ravela layered a thin shield close to her skin and clothes. This time she wanted to be ready before the action started.

“Woah, man where do you think you’re going?” One of the guards called her out after the lookout pointed to Ravela.

“Why, hello. I’m Michael and I’ve come to cleanse this hoard of villainy.”

That got a reaction from the goons, one of them even drew his gun.

“This is the wrong place and time to play stupid jokes, pal. Piss off before you get yourself killed.” The guy with the gun barked at him.

Ravela smiled broadly. “I’d like to see you try.”

No sooner had she finished the sentence than the man started shooting his gun. And as the bullet seemingly bounced off her face and clothes.

“I saw you try,” Ravela said, chuckling. “I am not impressed. Do try harder from here on out. Your life may depend on it.”

The guard closest to the main door was also the first to react. He turned the moment Ravela jumped to the first guy, lifting him by the collar of his jacket. “Building or car?” She asked him, still smiling broadly at him.

The man looked too surprised to respond, and she made the choice for him.

“Car it is,” She declared as she threw him into the car parked right next to her.

*Thud*

The thug left a dent in the car door and was out cold. “This is less satisfying than I imagined it would be,” Ravela declared turning her attention toward the man who had tried to shoot her. “So, car or building?”

There was a hint of panic in the man’s eyes as he started emptying his pistol. One bullet stopped in front of her eye temporarily distorting her vision before it inevitably dropped.

Ravela declared sternly, “Building.” Reaching the man as he was trying to reload, she picked him up by his belt. Walking toward the wall of their Bunker, the man dropped his weapon.

“H-hey hold on.” He tried to talk Ravela down.

“Oh, but it is far too late you change your choice now,” She gloated before hurling at the wall. Ravela made sure to toss him in a way that would not see him land neck first on the brick wall. The howling sound the man made as he flew and the resounding crack as he shoulder-checked the wall left her satisfied. He won’t be shooting a civilian as a first measure anytime soon, maybe ever. Looking down at the man spasming in pain holding the shoulder of his gun hand, Ravela counted him out of the fight.

She turned to the last of the four guards still standing there.

“Well, you aren’t one of the smart guys. You should have fled while I was still busy, like your friend.”

The man was backing away from his fishing for his gun. “Ey, stand back, you freak.”

Ravela started walking towards him. “Or are you going to do what he did?” She inquired pointing back at the goon with the crushed shoulder.

“Pick one. Car or wall.” She said as the man held out his empty hand.

“C-car, man come on, I didn’t even shoot at you and nothing.” He had lost his nerve. That was a first for the Swaddy she had seen in fights so far.

Ravela put a hand on his shoulder as if to reassure him that he’d be okay. “Do you think I care?”

Before he could answer she flung him at the car next to her. He collided with the hood flipping and sliding over it. To his luck, he missed the windshield, vanishing behind the car with a yelp.

She made her way up the stairs almost skipping. The heavily reinforced door had been shut and locked from the inside. One quick telekinetic check later she knew that there was a steel bar as thick as her leg blocking the door from opening.

Ravela thought for a moment about how to solve this problem without showing off her telekinesis. Her eyes wandered to the exposed hinges on the door and a grin appeared on her face. Breaking down this door as it was might have been a problem, but pulling some hinges out of brick walls was perfectly doable.

The hinges came off with nasty squeaking noises. Moments later Ravela peeled the door out of its frame. Opening the Bunker like it was a can of tuna.

There were five men behind the door looking horrified as Ravela’s face showed up in the widening gap.

She spotted the main entrance guard that had run inside at the first sign of trouble. “There you are. Why did you run, friend? Guilty conscience?”

The man with a submachine gun found his resolve first and opened fire on Ravela. After the drum mag was empty, there was a moment of pause.

Ravela walked into the factory while straightening her suit jacket.

“Get the syringes and the other personnel in here!” One of the mobsters yelled before he too started shooting his gun.

‘Can’t say they are fast learners,’ Ravela concluded silently. This time she didn’t wait for the magazine to be emptied. Jumping right toward the man, she broke the submachine gun by slapping it toward the floor with some force, breaking the shooter's fingers in the process.

“At this rate, you will all be in the hospital long before your bosses show up!” Ravela declared in front of the man whose hand she had just shattered. “That delay is going to hurt, severely.”

With one punch she broke the man’s leg. If she wanted to hand most of them over to the police many would have to go through this process tonight. Ravela stretched her neck again. They deserved this beatdown and since they had it coming, it was only proper that it arrived one day.

This was justice she told herself, not at all a way to get Morbolfr Krone to die of a rage-infused heart attack. Maybe, just a little bit of the latter.

Ravela started flinging the gangsters trying to hold her at the main entrance against the walls.

In a flash, no more shots were ringing out inside the room. Ravela had made quick work of the gangsters. Striding further inside she almost felt a bit of a spring in her step. In her wake, remained behind a badly beaten bunch of criminals who wouldn’t be running out of the Bunker on their own.

Ravela started humming happily. This felt like standing straight after cowering in cover for a long time. She could wait to get some of the more sturdy gangsters in her hands.

She stretched her neck once again, but this time she felt like the stiffness disappeared.

Multiple men roared as if they were enraged, as Ravela entered a hallway.

A side door splintered open and someone yelled. “Where’s that son of a bitch?! I will crush his skull!”

Ravela stopped as the goon looked wildly around seemingly disorientated, but then he honed in on her. Their eyes met and Ravela finally found the gangsters with super strength. She saw the splintered door as proof, and the joy she felt from now genuinely being able to cut loose couldn’t easily be put into words.

It would be put in broken bones shortly though. The man charged down the hallway and Ravela began reciprocating, his charge boosting her shield further, just in case there was an unexpected change in the strength of these goons.

As they neared contact, Ravela caught the punch the man tried to land while in full charge and met his shoulder check, in kind. To her satisfaction the man bounced off her and a good way back down the hall.

She grinned at the stunned man. Putting up her open palms, she slowly balled them into fists. “Alright, Bozzo, let’s dance!”

This was what she truly needed tonight. She hoped this guy wouldn’t be the only punching bag in the entire building full of high-value mafia cargo.

Otherwise, her fun may be short-lived. If Morbolfr showed up here it would be ideal, for she had some frustrations with the man that she wanted to make known in bruises, bleeding, and broken bones. In his place, the goons would have to do, for now.

Thinking back to the surveillance on this place the odds of Morbolfr showing up were sadly low, but she had stand-ins for tonight.

Ravela rushed toward the man as more men charged from where the first guy had come, and other doors as well.