The abandoned police station came into view as Fii scaled a wall to emerge onto the street. She had walked here so many times, she could do it in her sleep. Still, actually being in front of the station made her feel a little wistful. Not too long ago, she and Virgil had used the place to train, working on her powers, her physical endurance, and teaching her how to fight.
The days were grueling, yes, and his lessons were hard.
But it was fun—in a weird way.
There was a rhythm to his training, something she hadn't fully understood at the time, but now could see clearly. Each session built on the previous ones, strengthening her, honing her, preparing her. He was getting her ready for something bigger, and though he hadn't said as much, he didn't have to. It was in his actions, and his unwavering commitment to the process. He was as strict as Edith and just as secretive.
Odd how they were so alike, yet couldn't get along for the life of them. Oil and water, those two.
As she took in the sight of the station, memories played out in her mind: the endless laps around the block, the relentless combat drills, the grueling power exercises. He always believed in pushing her beyond what she thought was her limit, always trying to pull just a bit more out of her. Not that he ever got too far. It was always right on the cusp of being 'too much,' but never actually crossing the line. Not even once.
If anything, he held back more than anything else. Often, Fii would look into his eyes and see that glimmer of something underneath his gruff exterior. What was it? Concern? Doubt? Whatever it was, Virgil never let it show for long.
Fii found herself wondering why they both put her through so much. Why, despite their arguments, their different approaches, did they both seem to understand something about her that she didn't even grasp herself? And why did they keep whatever it was under their hats?
The questions swirled in her head, but she quickly shook them away. Edith's kidnapping was more important right now than prying into old mysteries. With a deep breath, she approached the entrance to the station. It felt oddly like coming home, and yet, at the same time, it was still just a big, dilapidated, hollowed-out ruin.
Darkened windows gazed out like sightless eyes, the front door was marred with scratches and graffiti. As she entered, the door squeaked, protesting her intrusion. Inside was just as bad, maybe worse. A layer of dust covered everything, giving the whole place a muted, gray aura. Her nose crinkled at the musty, stale smell that hung in the air.
A flock of pigeons fluttered out from behind a torn-up shutter, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"Well, some of you just look fat and happy," she teased, eyeing the obviously well-fed birds.
They cooed in response, utterly oblivious to her words. Who was feeding them in here, anyway?
She tiptoed over broken glass and debris, making her way to the stairwell that led to the basement, or Virgil as described it, the 'think tank'.
Finally, she arrived at the basement door, the hinges creaking as she pushed it open.
There, at his desk, sat Virgil. He was hunched over, his rugged features highlighted by the flickering light of an old lamp. As always, his dark cowboy hat was perched atop his head, and he was cloaked in his signature trenchcoat, looking like the kind of guy people would either go to for help or avoid if they valued their lives. And, well, he was both.
He held a crumpled piece of paper in one hand, seemingly engrossed by whatever was scribbled on it.
Before she could announce herself, he looked up, his eyes locking onto hers.
"It's about time you got here," he grumbled, setting the paper down. "I've been waiting for a good ten minutes."
Despite his initial show of irritation, a corner of his mouth hinted at a suppressed smile. For Virgil, that was the equivalent of a bear hug from most other folks.
"It's great to see you too," Fii responded, her own smile mirroring his. "I know. I missed that cheery attitude of yours."
Her statement, despite its playful jab, held a truth. There was something comforting about being back here, trading quips with the gun-slinging grump she'd come to know, even in the midst of their usual banter. He might not be the cheeriest person around, but he was reliable in his unique brand of grouchy loyalty.
It made her feel safe, somehow.
Virgil let out a scoff, more amused than offended. He nodded at the worn wooden chair opposite him, which to be honest, looked like it had seen better days.
He sure doesn't waste any time on pleasantries, does he? Sit down and shut up. Got it.
As she took her seat, a puff of dust mushroomed from the cushion. Fii managed to maintain her composure, although her nose itched and a sneeze threatened to escape. Mustering all her willpower, she managed to suppress it, swallowing the urge with a sniffle.
He looked at her. Then at her nose. And back to her.
"Okay, if you've got to sneeze, then go right ahead. This is important, but not as urgent as whatever demon wants to come crawling out of your snout," he stated, sounding somewhere between a concerned dad and an annoyed grandpa who wants to watch TV.
The sheer ridiculousness of Virgil's statement shattered her resolve. A peal of laughter escaped her lips, a sneeze quickly tailing it.
One sneeze. Two sneezes. Three sneezes later, Virgil was staring at her with that same exasperated look he always seemed to wear. When she finally regained her composure, her eyes teary and her nose rosy from the sneezing fit, he harrumphed. He slapped a dirty rag from some forgotten corner of the desk.
Oh, how thoughtful. I'm sure that'll make things so much better.
"It's clean, promise," he grunted.
It didn't look it, but okay. With a sheepish grin, Fii took the offered cloth and blew her nose, making an indelicate sound that she could practically feel him wince at. Sorry to offend your delicate, anti-sneeze sensibilities, Mister Maddox.
Another grunt. This one had a very eloquent meaning too: Are you quite done?
Clearing her throat, Fii composed herself and shot him a challenging smirk. "Right, got that out of my system. Let's talk shop."
The creases in Virgil's forehead deepened, a sign Fii had come to understand as his way of signaling something important, or a headache.
"Edith," he began, his tone taking on a weight that hadn't been there before, "I've narrowed down a couple of leads on where she might be."
Virgil leaned in, the dim light of the precinct casting dramatic shadows across his stern features. Despite the setting, or maybe because of it, his seriousness felt exaggerated somehow.
He laid the crumpled piece of paper he had been studying on the table between them. From her perspective, it was upside down. Not that it mattered; squinting at it told her it was in some weird shorthand chicken scratch that only he could read and call a language. Something else she needed to learn: deciphering Virgil's unique code for note-taking.
"The trail's been pretty muddy," he continued, gesturing to his notes, "but I've finally managed to wipe away some of the grime."
He tapped a line he found significant with a scarred finger. "Based on a few bits of hearsay and an account of suspicious movement, I think there's a good chance she's being held in one of his satellite facilities past the Wastes of Kurigali, or..." Another tap, this time more deliberate. "...in his labs within the Metropolis itself."
Oh.
His words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the dust motes dancing lazily in the meager sunlight that forced its way through the cracked windows.
"Well..." Fii said after a pause, drawing out the syllable. "That's... big."
Both places were daunting on their own merit.
The thought of the Wastes made her stomach clench. Kurigali was a cursed stretch of land that sprawled beyond the Slums. It was an enormous, lifeless desert where only the truly desperate or utterly mad dared to venture. Stories about the place ranged from terrifying to flat-out ridiculous.
Monsters as large as airships? Maybe not. Freak sandstorms that could strip your flesh from bone in minutes? Okay, probably just an exaggeration.
But the whole no-man's-land thing and the plethora of cannibalistic freaks and roving gangs? Those weren't exaggerated. Not according to her friend Tweak anyway, and the Wirehead rarely stretched the truth—though she tended to leave out crucial details. But crossing the Wastes was suicide.
Only caravans from the Metropolis stood a chance of traversing it, and even then, they had to be well-equipped, loaded to the gills with firepower.
That wasn't even mentioning what was supposed to lurk underground, monsters waiting to feed. So yeah, not the best option.
Flying over it was the safest bet, which meant securing a ship, a good ship. But that meant entering the Metropolis itself to board one, and that came with its own set of issues.
Airship barges docked in the Metropolis on a regular basis, coming from different lands, including Kurigali. They carried all sorts of commodities—synth-food, goods, the usual stuff. A few often stop by the slums to make some extra credits off the books on the way back.
She could fly herself and Virgil over instead, but even her powers had limits, and running out of steam above the Wastes spelled doom for them. Not to mention she'd never set foot outside of the slums before. Fii had no idea how big the desert was or where exactly to go.
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Getting lost in that place...
An airship was definitely the better option there.
Oh, and speaking of the big M, that was another problem altogether.
Access to the city was strictly regulated by its overzealous Board of Corporate Directors. Sure, people could get in as long as they met one of a million requirements and had the right amount of credits, but she was pretty sure 'rescuing a kidnapped mentor' wasn't an item on the list of approved reasons to enter.
Becoming a registered Super had been her original plan. Supers were granted unrestricted entry. The city loved its Supers; the more, the merrier. But... she had just killed Prime—the leader of the Ultimate Guardians and the city's most prominent hero—not too long ago.
That probably wouldn't go over well.
If she wasn't public enemy number one after that little stunt, the rest of the Ultimate Guardians were at the very least gunning for her, like, really literally gunning for her. She was surprised they didn't come back to the Slums to try and grab her after the showdown.
"You're sure?" Fii asked, not wanting to question his skills, but needing that extra bit of reassurance. "How confident are you about this lead?"
Virgil leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. His eyebrows arched ever so slightly, indicating he wasn't so much annoyed as he was tired. Like usual, then.
"I won't promise you the sun or moon here," he replied, a rare softness in his voice. "But in my line of work, you learn to sniff out these things, and everything I've discovered points to those locations. Those mercs and Adrenomacers we fought all came here through the Wastes, which tells me they operate out of Kurigali."
"But Salva—" Fii started to say.
Virgil cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, he's from the Metropolis. I know. And I'm not discounting that. His ties there are as strong as they come. That's why both places feel right to me. Either his crew is holing up in one of his hidden labs here or they're using some base of his past the desert. If I had to bet, I'd put my money on the Wastes."
Fii frowned. "But the Wastes? How—why would they risk something like that? That place is the stuff of nightmares, from what I heard."
He gave a half nod, then gave one of his usual shrugs, which normally meant 'yeah, that's true, but...'
But what?
"Kurigali makes a great deal of sense if you think about it. First, there's still a city there, Merraco. Not a pretty place, sure, but it's a haven for those with the right connections. Lots of places to disappear or use as a hideout. Plus, he has the resources to make it livable. If there's anyone who can weather that place, it's him and his money.
"Second, security. Kurigali is a natural deterrent; no one in their right mind would venture there. Outside of corporations using the place to move goods around, it's a no-man's-land. Crossing it means you either have a team of Supers escorting you, or you're prepared to handle the worst. Not many folks have that kind of firepower.
"Third, it's remote. News and rumors from Kurigali are scarce, so even if he was up to something, no one would be the wiser. Perfect place to keep your secrets and your hostages."
Despite her earlier objections to the idea, the more Virgil explained, the more it made sense.
Something still didn't sit right with her though.
She inhaled, as if to speak, but then thought better of it.
"Spit it out, girl," he said, his words coming out in a weary sigh.
"Well..." Fii ventured, her brows knitting together. "Why not just keep her in the Metropolis, then? If he has all these resources and connections, wouldn't that be easier?"
Virgil uncrossed his arms and leaned forward again, elbows on the table. The light from the dusty lamp caught his features, deepening the shadows that played across his face.
"That's where it gets tricky," he admitted. "My guess—and this is just a guess—is that if Salvatore did take her to the Metropolis, things could get complicated. See, he's a big fish there, but so are others. Every powerful figure in that city has their own security, their own networks. There are prying eyes everywhere. If Edith put up a fight—which we know she would—that could draw unwanted attention. He's a big shot, but so is everyone else there. It's not his domain alone."
He paused, letting that sink in. "Out in the Wastes, he has more control. But like I said, I'm not ruling out the Metropolis completely. Actually, it'd be better for her if she was there. That's a real city, and although there're probably a million places he could keep her, she'd be better off there than in Merraco. Even still, we'd be looking at a needle in a haystack."
Fii thought about this and nodded.
Okay. Edith might be in the Wastes, or in the Metropolis. Okay. Big deal. I can work with this.
Steeling her resolve, she straightened in her chair and looked Virgil in the eye. "When do we start? I could try flying us over, maybe—"
He cut her off with a swift gesture. "Woah there, turbo. Let's slow our roll a bit."
Now his furrowed brow was joined by a frown, an expression so familiar that Fii often wondered if it was stuck that way.
"Don't get me wrong," he continued, holding up a placating hand, "your enthusiasm is... nice. It really is, kid. But there's a lot more to this than just diving in headfirst. We can't afford any rash decisions; they'll only land us—and likely Edith—in hot water."
Fii leaned forward, elbows on the desk, and was forced to match his stare.
"Then what's the plan?" she asked, her voice edging on defensive. "I mean, shouldn't we act fast and strike while the iron is hot or whatever?"
A heavy sigh escaped Virgil, sounding like a weightlifting bellows. He sat there, processing her question. "Have you ever heard the expression, 'Those who fail to prepare, prepare to fail'? It's as true today as it's ever been. All we have right now are a couple of vague ideas and no solid plan. That's hardly a recipe for success."
As much as she wanted to disagree, she knew he was right. Acting impulsively had never served her well. "Fair enough. So what's next?"
"Information, which I'm gathering, and something resembling a plan. Also..." He tapped his finger on the table thoughtfully. "We might need to round up some help for this. This isn't some little operation where you snag a file and bolt. This is an all-out rescue mission, and there's a big difference. No one-man show can pull that off."
Help?
Her first thought was of Quinn, but he couldn't just drop everything and jaunt off to save Edith with her. Not to mention the whole powers thing. He didn't have them, she did, and he wasn't a fighter. Definitely not going to drag him into this. But then who could they trust to assist? It wasn't like she had a treasure chest of people she could call on. There was Tweak, and...
Her mind landed on Quinn again.
As she pondered, Virgil reached across the table, tapping her forehead with a finger. "Quinn won't be any good. Don't worry your little head about rounding up a posse; I've got some contacts from the olden times that might still be up to lend a hand. It'll take a while. All you need to focus on is getting ready and biding your time. Keep doing your superhero... thing."
"Hey!" Fii pouted.
"I don't mean that in a bad way, alright? Just keep your ear to the ground, don't let all hell break loose. Stay away from Salvatore. Let me handle that front, and when I've found more, we'll be back at this table and planning."
"You'll tell me as soon as you hear anything?" Fii asked, a hint of impatience in her voice. Waiting was not her strongest skill.
"I will," Virgil responded, holding her gaze. He pointed to her temple and said, "Just try not to overthink it or rush in. Don't do anything impulsive like fly over The Wall into the Metropolis. I can see what you're thinking. Trust me, it'll get ugly. Besides, if Edith is in the Wastes, then she isn't in the Metropolis, and vice versa."
It was almost funny how well he could read her.
"But... isn't taking our time risky?" Fii voiced, a stubborn frown pulling at her features. "She's out there, in who-knows-what kind of trouble. Meanwhile, we're here, waiting."
Virgil huffed, crossing his arms and looking unimpressed. "I know Salvatore. He won't hurt her. Not until he's fully utilized everything she knows. Edith would know this too. She'd cooperate, in her own way, to buy herself some time. Of that, I'm sure. I'm sure that she also expects you to be looking for her."
He rose from his chair, indicating their conversation was at its end.
Fii sat silently for a moment. There wasn't a smidgen of uncertainty in Virgil's voice, and he wasn't one for blind optimism either. It was... strangely reassuring.
"Okay," she said finally, a hint of frustration lingering in her tone. "But if we take too long, or the rescue falls through..."
"You can hang me from The Wall as punishment," Virgil retorted, waving his hand dismissively. "And if I somehow screw this up and I don't end up dead, then sure, you have my permission to just end me yourself."
It was clear he didn't care about any threats or idle worries, so Fii exhaled slowly. "That's a deal I'd rather not see through."
"Me neither," he agreed. "Me neither. Now go on. Go help some old folks, punch some gangs in the face or something. I'll keep digging and let you know what I find."
With a nod that felt heavier than she liked, Fii pushed up from the table and rose to her feet. "Alright," she conceded. "Just... remember, I've got skin in this game too." She stood there, hands on the back of the old wooden chair, an expectant look on her face.
"I'm aware. Now scram, get going," he replied, flapping his hand at her in a shooing gesture. "Oh, one last thing. Supers from the Metropolis might start showing up. For you. So, just be careful. Try not to kill them, if you can. No one likes a repeat performance. Some of those Supers are also friends of mine. Not very good friends, mind you, but friends. But no promises. Your life is more important than their life."
Well, that was an ugly thought.
"Will do, and thanks for the heads-up," Fii mumbled, turning away and picking her path carefully through the debris-cluttered room, making her way toward the exit. One final glance over her shoulder revealed Virgil, already engrossed in his notes, planning his next move.
Good luck, old man. We both need it.
Suddenly, a loud bang made her jump. Something whizzed past her ear and embedded itself in the wall ahead with a thud. No sooner had she spun around than another shot rang out, kicking up a puff of dust near her feet.
Looking down, she realized there was a hole in the floor, a perfectly rounded, fresh hole that glared up at her. The floorboards around it were slightly scorched.
Glancing up and looking across the room, she saw Virgil sitting, one arm thrown over the back of the chair and his revolver casually pointed in her direction. Smoke curled lazily from its barrel. Did he just shoot at me?!
Their eyes locked, and the gunslinger offered her a half-grin.
"W-What was that for?!" Fii blurted, gesturing at the smoking gun. A nervous laugh bubbled up, a laugh of someone who was absolutely shocked. "Are you... I mean, did you just... what?"
"Don't worry your pretty little head off," Virgil responded, setting his revolver on the desk. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver cigar case that opened with a flick of his wrist. Picking one, he used the still-smouldering barrel of his revolver to light it, taking a deep drag. Then, after a sigh of smoke, he said, "Just checking."
"Checking? By shooting at me?!"
"I needed to make sure you're always on your toes. Before I left to investigate, I told you to always keep your gravity barrier thing active in case of sudden... surprises. Didn't I?"
Yes. Yes, he did. But still! Shooting at her wasn't...
"Good on ya that you listened," he gruffed, casually examining his nails. "Everyone knows who you are now. Anyone with a gun who has a thing against you might just take a shot at you at any time, any place. You need to be ready for that. An assassin won't send you a calling card first."
Fair point. Sure, but...
She hadn't dropped her guard. In fact, she'd kept it up more than usual. There was always a gravitational barrier around her, an instinctive reaction to avoid trouble. Nothing could touch her unless she wanted it to. No knives, bullets, punches, or whatever else people could throw at her. That barrier was her first line of defense.
But there was a trade-off. Since activating it constantly was draining, Fii could only pull off other, more complex maneuvers occasionally. Too much exertion risked burnout. Not only that, she couldn't grab or hold onto anything with her hands and not have them go flying away.
So, in many cases, she just turned it off. But nowadays? As he said, now was not the time to slack off on personal protection—which was why Virgil's 'test' got deflected and instead scared the ever-living crap out of her.
When she slept, she even kept the barrier active but changed the shape to a dome that covered her whole bed. This drained more of her stamina, but the peace of mind was worth the risk. It was the only way she could feel comfortable sleeping. Otherwise, anyone could walk in and just...
Just do anything. Anything at all.
For a long moment, Fii watched as smoke languidly drifted from Virgil's cigar towards the ceiling. Well, she wasn't going to stand around for more shooting practice. Her hand found the door frame and she glanced back at Virgil one more time, noticing how his smile hadn't faded.
"You're an asshole," she remarked dryly before stepping out and into the overcast day beyond.
Just before the door closed behind her, she heard his response. "You're welcome."