Part of what he hadn’t expected was how swift the process would be after all was said and done. Once the villain was defeated, Scalestrike used a device he was carrying on him to communicate with someone, and not two minutes later Finn could sense the police approaching with specialized restraining equipment.

The other part was how the remaining unpowered Venin members didn’t even try to escape. Instead, they just put down their weapons and walked out of the building with their hands in the air.

Truth be told, this kind of surrender wasn’t something Finn really experienced in his own career. The name Shade wasn’t one that made bad guys give up hope. But with the backing of the DHD, it seemed the criminals weren’t even going to try to get out when they were surrounded by five different heroes who had just beaten their powered superiors into submission.

He wasn’t sure whether Lyra’s fight ending around the same time as his own was a coincidence or an indication of the power differences in each match-up. And it didn’t matter. If he’d finished his own battle earlier, he would have helped her, but that turned out to be unnecessary. They had proven to be too much for the Venin enforcers to handle.

Real villains from one of the biggest gangs in the district, defeated by them. This was another step on his path. Yet despite that, he couldn’t be entirely satisfied. There were still things he was missing. His decision making hadn’t been optimal in retrospect. He should’ve been faster with stopping the mist from locking Scalestrike down and leaving him to fend for himself. Except, he had known that was the wrong call; he hadn’t done it for no reason.

He wanted to win on his own. It was unreasonable, it objectively slowed everyone down. In the context of this mission, it served no one. The problem was that Finn was thinking further ahead than just this mission. His goals were greater than arresting thugs or catching drug dealers. In his future, he had a fight waiting for him unlike anything he had ever faced before. That confrontation, it was coming one day—Finn felt it in his bones. And he was running out of options to prepare himself.

Still, that didn’t automatically justify his actions. Were his priorities wrong in that fight? Probably. Nothing had ultimately been gained through the risks he took, after all. Then again, would it have made much of a difference? The fact remained that the both of them combined had been losing in spite of Finn’s efforts to allow Scalestrike to navigate the fog. Never mind that power interaction between the dark vapor and his colors.

Once again, the limitations of his power were showing their arbitrary nature. Without being aware of it, Niebla had almost fooled him; he thought her power was just a telekinetically controlled cloud of gas she had a set range for, but she also had to be attached to it. He wasn’t sure why that didn’t count as her wearing her power, thus preventing him from altering its color. Did his power just work better against other powers, or was the volume too great to count as clothing?

Hands-on experience, real combat against other powers, that was what he needed to find notable power interactions and broaden his understanding of his ability. The risk factor was a given. He wouldn’t continue this if he was unwilling to face danger. If anything, Finn was far more prepared for the risks than he had been months ago. He’d grown, sharpened his skills, and expanded the comprehension of his powers, but every fight revealed new limitations—more questions than answers.

Never mind that the opponents he fought had to be worth something in their own right. Besides Trooper, he hadn’t truly fought that many strong opponents on his own. Whatever “strong” meant, at this point. It was a relative term, he supposed. And all he had managed back then was to hold out until someone stronger could save him.

Frenzy and Ignis, albeit significantly less dangerous, were some of his biggest feats in terms of personal achievement, but those had been the result of teamwork. Moonflower and Calliope’s roles had played a bigger part in the victories. They’d provided the firepower to shift the balance of each respective fight. Even tonight, Scalestrike was the one to have landed the finishing blow. The Junior Ace just had more strength than he did.

That was what it came down to in the end, wasn’t it? Firepower. Something he sorely lacked. He would likely always be supplementing his skill set with a weapon of some kind, but there were only so many different gadgets he could carry on his person.

No matter how he thought about it, this wasn’t enough to beat Omega.

Which was why Finn was working his way up the stairs right now. He moved as quickly as he could, taking the steps two at a time even as he saw Lyra approaching with Mountpin and Damsel from the opposite side.

Though he had opened their comms again, his more-than-friend wasn’t saying anything. Jack was the one talking.

“Cal, I don’t think you have any idea how much we can do with your silence field. Muting entire battlefields is worth it for psychological impact alone. And that’s not even considering the actual uses like redirecting certain types of explosions or disrupting systems in general. Man, the implications…”

Finn was learning all about how Lyra’s control over sound had advanced in her confrontation with Havoc. Sure, it was good for the team. What bothered him was that…

The gap between them was widening.

After his loss in their spar, he had tried not to think too much about it, instead focusing on his own progress. His breakthroughs in sensory abilities had been great on that front, but none of that addressed the aforementioned issues with his power set. And he had uncovered most aspects of it. Anything he gained after this would be a complementary benefit, at best. He was plateauing.

Contrary to him, Lyra didn’t seem to be reaching the limits of her power at all, and if he was being honest with himself, he knew she wouldn’t. Not anytime soon. Her pace of improvement ever since they took up training with Frameshot and Nar would definitely continue, if not increase.

Her being able to defend herself was good. He didn’t want her to get hurt. He just also didn’t want to get to a point where she was the one taking on the most responsibility in the team not because she wanted to lead, but because he was too weak to hold onto that role. Beyond that, it served as an indicator that he wasn’t growing fast enough.

To that end, he headed toward where she was. His objective was there, and they had reached it first despite his efforts to get away from Scalestrike without looking too suspicious.

Upon entering the far corridor, he saw Lyra turn to him. Damsel had been profusely apologizing to her senior for something he didn’t have time to listen to, and Mountpin glanced at him for such a short instant that he wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t literally sensing the twitches of her extraocular muscles.

“You’re hurt,” Lyra observed while taking hurried steps his way, putting a hand on his arm just under the lightly bleeding shoulder wound. Her voice, like her aura, was tinged with concern.

“It’s just a scratch. I’m fine,” said Finn.

The look on her masked face told him that answer didn’t satisfy her in the least. She didn’t say anything further, however, correctly prioritizing their mission over a negligible scrape.

Without warning, Finn entered the storage room ahead. He’d already observed it with his power multiple times, and seeing it with his eyes was just confirmation of what he already knew. Various shelves stocked with items, boxes, and weird gizmos he didn’t know the name or function of. And, of course, what he had been looking for all this time.

Once he opened the chest, he learned not everyone was willing to let him go in uncontested.

“I see Scalestrike’s shadow decided to take initiative,” Mountpin remarked from behind him. “Maybe Niebla’s suffocation affected his brain. He seems to have forgotten where he stands.”

She pushed him aside and swiped a bronze miniature tree he had picked up from his hand, then started looking into the chest herself.

Jack sighed over Finn’s earpiece. “I’ve had it with this bitch. Wait, Cal, what are you doing?”

Lyra marched up to the woman, nostrils flaring. They were both tall, but she still had a few centimeters on Mountpin, making it so she was glaring down at the adult heroine.

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“You need to shut your mouth,” she warned, her tone grave.

Mountpin’s head reared back almost imperceptibly. “Pardon?” She sounded in equal parts offended and surprised.

“You heard me.”

For a second, the expression of Mistral’s teammate hardened. Then when Lyra stood her ground, she scoffed. “You think you're untouchable just because you handled Havoc, do you?”

“Fight me, if you want, but you’re not disrespecting Shade again.” Lyra’s stance was firm, dark red rising from her outline, and she looked genuinely ready to throw down at a moment’s notice.

“Please don’t fight,” came Damsel’s voice from where she was approaching the two, trying to separate them without actually using her hands to do so with force. “We can resolve this with words, can’t we?”

Mountpin kept quiet a tense moment longer before speaking more flatly. “I suppose we can. Listen, Calliope, I won’t be disrespecting your Shade again—on one condition. He follows protocol while we're here. No exceptions.”

Hearing that, Lyra visibly relented, tension draining from her shoulders as she assumed a more relaxed pose. “Okay.”

The squad leader turned to her junior. “Damsel, keep an eye on both of them. I’m going to verify the area and make sure everything’s ready for confiscation. We don’t need any more surprises.”

With a final look in Finn’s direction, the woman walked away, oblivious of the invisible rectangular crystal resting safely between his fingers.

*******

Her gang was in dire straits.

Viperia became more aware of that after each report coming in.

The way it had started was simple enough. A planned raid on her properties coordinated by the DHD that enlisted the help of various independents. Nothing she couldn’t overcome. Shuffle around her assets to some backup locations, fortify those bases, gather her forces for a counterattack if necessary. All things she’d been prepared to do in advance.

Except, what she had done didn’t work. No matter where she hid her supplies, there’d be a squad sent to go bust that place. Sometimes they’d even try to steal her things whilst they were in transit.

So the issue must have been a double agent in her organization telling the heroes where to go. A traitor with a death wish. Surely that was the case, right?

Wrong.

She had taken every possible precaution. Control of information, isolating specific people to make sure they couldn’t be the leak, hidden cameras, coded messages, personal inspection. None of it made a difference.

They just. Kept. Finding. Out.

How?!

Whatever method they were employing to run circles around her, it was working. The only reason she wasn’t defending it all with her life was because they were keeping Mistral back, probably because she hadn’t shown up yet. And a drawn out confrontation with him now… no. She needed to neutralize their hidden trick.

Following the first few strikes, she had told Grimoire to pull what he had out of his stash so they could buy time. For what, she didn’t know. But she needed the extra time regardless.

Then the more important storage facilities were being hit, and she had no choice but to send out her other three lieutenants as well. Some things she could not afford to lose. To make sure of that, she had even attempted to enlist the aid of her clients, but they were all a no-show now that there was so much heat on her.

At length, Genevieve began to notice a pattern. A string of coincidental patrol routes that were lining up exactly with the discoveries of her contraband and other resources. It led back to one individual.

The golden jester.

When she learned that, it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. He had acquired some psionic or sensory power and was using it to sniff them out everywhere they went. By now, all the buildings she’d thought safe were compromised. Even the one they had Yves in.

And now her baby was gone. They had him.

Seeing the message Elise sent detailing how Gossamer had broken in and taken her child away had sent her over the edge. Over a decade of efforts to cure him, and this was how it was ending? Being discovered by the authorities? They were going to put him down like a rabid dog. Taking a shuddering breath, she tried to banish the image from her mind. He wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be. She couldn’t let them take him away from her. Not after everything.

She didn’t care about caution anymore. So she ran straight for the pain in the ass that was gleefully ruining her life.

“GIVE HIM BACK!” she screeched, lunging at the fucking bastard kid and his idiotic smiling mask.

Swerving smoothly out of the way, Nar countered with a spinning back kick. His sharp-pointed shoe connected with her jaw, making her see stars. Reeling from the impact, she stumbled and tried to stab him with her claws, and they met thin air.

The Junior Ace captain buried a fist in her scaled gut, and she nearly doubled over. Then he turned it into a one-two combo and hit her with an uppercut, lifting her off the ground. She didn’t get the chance to fly far as a gloved hand caught her wrist, slamming her back into the pavement so hard it formed a crater.

“Why hello there,” said Nar from within the dust cloud, voice light as if she were a stranger he encountered on a morning stroll. “I would say I didn’t see you coming, but I’m not in the habit of lying to ladies with green hair.”

Son of a bitch.

“How dare you…” she ground out. In the blink of an eye, she was up and fighting again, this time with increased speed. The young hero was ready, though, pushing her arm out of the way with a palm and wrapping her in golden chains that spawned from nowhere.

Struggling against the restraints, she snarled. This was Fetter’s power, obviously. Did that mean they’d gotten him too, or was his power already taken in a previous fight? Either way, she flexed and shattered the aureate chains.

Nar had taken that time to reposition herself up above the abandoned buildings, both hands up and shooting glowing energy stars at her. Some grazed her scales, some missed, and the rest she blocked. Charging at him before he could fire another wave, she dove forward with her claws all put together for maximum venom concentration.

“You know,” the boy said conversationally, sidestepping her with unnatural grace. “I think I will delay calling this in. Wait for the district to be cleansed of your gang for good before I bring this dance to a conclusion. Give you a front-row seat to your empire crumbling.” He tilted his head, oozing smug amusement. “It’s more poetic that way, don’t you agree?”

“Shut up,” she growled, getting ready for a more precise set of attacks. “You’re going to tell me where my son is, or I’ll rip your heart out and make you watch me eat it!”

“Ah, family reunions—always so messy, aren’t they?”

When her last attack was parried, she threw her body forward and locked him in with both arms. He may have been physically capable and more agile, he may have been versatile, he may have prepared powers to counter her that she hadn’t seen yet. Even so, she was still stronger.

Arms wrapped around him, she rammed him through a building. The whole building. Not just one wall. They came in through the front, smashed layer after layer of concrete, wires, piping and plaster, then exited with a crash from the other side. She pressed her claws into his back to administer her poison.

But something was off. Pressed against her body was not the fabric she expected. No, it was natural armor which she recognized on the changed form of her adversary.

His figure was masculine. It was different in coloration. Golden hair, golden claws, gleaming white scales with a faint golden hue. But the transformation was unmistakable. Her own power.

He’d copied it.

“You look so surprised,” the not-Viperia commented with the altered vocal chords that came from her power, completely unharmed. “I always thought this would be expected of me, what with my power being broadcasted to the entire world. Perhaps I was wrong.”

The following attack was so sudden and so fast that she had no time to process it. A golden haze surrounded Nar’s form. A heartbeat later, the world blurred around her. Belatedly, she realized her head was being used to make a furrow in the asphalt underneath them, dragging across it.

Genevieve smashed her palms to the ground to break her momentum. Twisting out of the shifted jester’s grasp, she rolled to the side to get her bearings. Nar stood a few meters removed from her, waiting to see what she would do next.

These odds were not in her favor. Even in her rageful, desperate state of mind, she could recognize that much. In addition to her power, Nar was stacking at least two more powers on top of it. Ones that enhanced his speed and defense, she suspected. She couldn’t keep up.

Leaping away to create enough distance for what was about to happen, she went into her human form. Nar saw her face, but who cared? Her identity was burned the moment they caught Yves.

Fishing around in her pockets, her hand found one of the variants of the drug formula she’d been distributing across the district. It had a special touch from Grimoire to it, one of his personal best that granted the user more than a temporary feeling of ecstasy. It was untested, and the effects might be irreversible, but it would give her the strength she needed.

When she took this along in case of an emergency, it was Mistral she imagined using this against, not his arrogant protégé. Hmph. Mistral would come when she did this regardless.

Genevieve stabbed the syringe into her arm, with the weight of a woman ready to burn the world down.