In the middle of a dingy warehouse, a small gathering of masked individuals conversed quietly amongst themselves. Their leader, clad in black leather with a balaclava concealing his features, surveyed his team's haul: A truck full of precious cargo.
"Heh. Got a full basket today. Look at all that merchandise. Must've been worth a fortune," One member, a skinny individual with a knife scar on his chin, whistled appreciatively as he peered into the shipping crate. "Any idea where we should fence them?"
Another, a stocky woman wearing a blue beanie, scoffed. "Probably auction them off. Might net us a decent return."
The leader of the gang, Vitaly, a hulking man with a thick bushy beard and dark sunglasses, spoke up. "We're not sellin' jack, boys. These puppies are staying with us. Word on the street says these parts are essential for making new gear, and since nobody can find no others, I reckon we should cash in big time."
He grinned wickedly. "Imagine all the sweet upgrades and toys we can whip up with this kinda kit. We'll be the most feared gang in the slums, and they'll bow to us and kiss our asses before begging for mercy." He patted his holster proudly. "One step closer to my dream of becoming the next Backfire."
Vitaly pulled out his pistol and twirled the weapon with deft finesse. "Get a move on, idiots, let's not waste daylight." The rest of the gang nodded obediently, immediately returning to work unloading the truck. They knew better than to argue when their boss was in one of his moods. If they dared, they'd have a bullet in them faster than they could blink.
As they transferred the valuable equipment to a waiting trailer, another masked member tapped the leader on the shoulder. "Boss, someone's outside."
"Huh?" Vitaly cocked his head in puzzlement. "We're expecting company?"
"Not sure, boss, I'm not getting any transmissions from the loomers." The subordinate replied nervously, fidgeting in place. "What do you want me to do, boss?"
Vitaly clicked his tongue impatiently. "Fine. Let's take a look."
He marched to the window, cracking open the shutters and peeking through the gap. Outside, he spotted a lone figure standing in front of the warehouse.
The man was tall and lean, with a narrow face and piercing hazel eyes. He wore a worn trench coat that hung loosely on his frame, and his brown hair was slicked back. He rested one hand casually on the hilt of his holster, the other clutching a cigarette that burned steadily at his side. He stood there, unmoving, his gaze locked on the building.
Vitaly could tell he was trouble by the way he carried himself: confident and poised, as if he were waiting for something. "Who the fuck is that?" he snarled, glaring at his subordinate. "I don't recognize him."
"Dunno, boss," the lackey answered fearfully. "I ain't seen him before. Should we send someone to rough him up?"
The man took a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled slowly, flicking the ash to the ground. Then, he started walking towards the warehouse, his stride measured and deliberate.
"No, no, no," Vitaly hissed, his expression contorting in rage. "That's it. Fuck this shit."
He stomped towards the entrance, yanking out his weapon and cocking it aggressively. "You! Brighter than a busted bulb aren't ya?! Whoever the fuck you are, we're having a little misunderstanding here. See, this here is private property, and we ain't accepting any visitors. So why don't you take your scrawny ass and get the hell outta here, before I put a bullet through that skull of yours?"
He jabbed the gun barrel threateningly in the air as he yelled. "And make it snappy, punk, before I blow your brains out!"
The man stopped a few meters away, his eyes fixed directly ahead. He flicked his cigarette away dismissively and narrowed his eyes, his lip curling upward in a contemptuous sneer. "You can put the gun down, friend. I'm not here to cause any trouble. Just here for the truck and its cargo."
"Yeah?" Vitaly snorted. "Too bad you're not taking neither." He aimed the pistol directly at the man's forehead, his finger hovering over the trigger. "You'll be leaving with an empty hole in your noggin, instead."
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Fii dropped down from above, landing directly behind Vitaly. She grabbed him by the waist and flung him to the ground. He crashed with a thud, his face smashing against the concrete. His pistol skidded away, and he lay still for a moment.
As he struggled to get back on his feet, Fii leaped in front of him, delivering a swift kick to his chest. He doubled over, wheezing, and slumped against a nearby wall.
Fii smirked under her makeshift mask, a red bandana covering her lower face. She wore a black cap and had her hood drawn up as well, obscuring her features. She shifted into a combat stance, her fists raised defensively in front of her, prepared to strike again at any sudden movements.
She glanced at Virgil, who'd walked calmly past the beaten gang leader, who was now propping himself up with trembling arms. He tipped his hat with a wink. "Much obliged, Ms. Axion."
"I took care of the lookouts so there shouldn't be any reinforcements coming. At least, not right away," Fii commented as Virgil approached the entrance to the building.
The rest of the gang members had taken cover behind crates and barrels, pointing their pipe guns in his direction. As Virgil neared, the nervous men opened fire, scattering bullets in his general vicinity.
Fii didn't think, she moved.
She dashed in front of Virgil, thrusting out her arms. She imagined her gravity field becoming a dense vortex in the path of the speeding bullets. The air between her and the oncoming bullets shimmered, as if heat rose from pavement on a summer day. A faint ripple distorted the graffiti on the wall behind her, bending the vibrant colors into a surreal canvas.
The bullets veered off course, harmlessly embedding themselves into the concrete floor and the nearby walls.
Virgil moved away from her, his face wincing as if in pain. "Hey, mind your distance, girl! You're giving me vertigo when you do that so close to me," he said with a sour grimace.
"Sorry!"
Right, forgot about that. Causing enough gravitational disturbance to veer bullets away could affect other things around me too. Dunno exactly how much, but it's enough to bother Virgil, apparently. Good to know.
The gang members stared at her with wide eyes, dumbfounded by her display of power. "Wha—what the hell?!" One of them sputtered, gawking at the feat.
Virgil continued sauntering through the hail of lead, unfazed by the barrage of gunfire. "Take care of 'em. I'll go get the truck and cargo."
"On it." Fii sprung into action, diving forward and rolling smoothly to her feet. She ran toward the nearest gang member, her steps light and agile. She dodged a clumsy swing from the man's pipe rifle, effortlessly swerving around his outstretched arm.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Before he could react, she drove her elbow into the underside of his jaw, sending him crumpling to the ground. She whipped around, twisting her body into a spinning kick that sent another gang member flying. She landed gracefully, her gaze darting around the room for her next target.
No gravity-assisted strikes this time. Virgil said that I didn't need it to take out a bunch of common thugs, just my strength as a metahuman was enough.
Fii scanned the scene, her eyes locking on a cluster of gang members huddled behind a stack of wooden pallets. They stared at her warily, their weapons raised. She burst into a sprint, the gravity field around her lightening her steps as she raced across the floor.
One of them fired his pistol wildly, his bullets missing Fii by centimeters.
She leaped over a discarded trash can, somersaulting in midair, and landed on her feet on the other side. Launching herself into the air once more, she vaulted over the surprised group and slammed into them, bowling them over like tenpins. She skidded to a halt, dusting herself off nonchalantly.
Wow, so much easier now compared to last time. Guess all that training is really paying off.
Two of the gang members rose shakily to their feet, brandishing knives. "We ain't gonna let you take us easy, freak!" one shouted, lunging at Fii. She sidestepped the attack, knocking his blade aside with a quick jab, and countered with a punch to the gut. He crumpled instantly, falling face-first onto the floor.
She wanted to say a comeback as she kicked his knife away, but she stopped herself, remembering that she didn't have her helmet to mask her voice.
The other attacker charged at her, screaming. Fii ducked under his wild slash, twisting her body around and planting her foot squarely into his chest. He was launched back, slamming into a stack of pallets and collapsing to the ground. He didn't get back up.
Behind her, another member attempted to sneak up and stab her while she was preoccupied. "Die, bitch!" He growled, plunging his knife downwards. However, just before he made contact, Fii increased the gravity around herself, causing the man to stagger as his momentum was thrown off. He toppled to the ground, his blade clattering to the floor.
Seeing as he was the last one standing out of the bunch, Fii turned her attention to him, grinning mischievously beneath her makeshift mask. She pounced, leaping through the air and tackling him to the ground. She straddled him, her weight pressing on his back, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
She squeezed hard, constricting his throat and cutting off the blood supply to his brain. The man thrashed and squirmed, trying desperately to escape, but Fii held on firmly. After a few seconds, he went limp, his body slumping to the floor.
Finally…after so many times Virgil had done that move on her, it was a little cathartic to try it on someone else.
Fii rose to her feet, surveying the damage around her. She'd successfully incapacitated every gang member in sight. She dusted off her jacket and brushed a strand of white hair out of her eye.
She spotted Virgil waving to her from inside the truck, giving her a thumbs-up. He pointed to the exit and revved the engine, signaling her to get on the back. With a curt nod, Fii hopped onto the vehicle as he hit the gas, speeding through the opening doors and out into the slums.
"We're getting a tail," Virgil stated over his shoulder as Fii spotted a moped behind them, trailing close behind. Vitaly was driving the small vehicle with another lackey riding shotgun. "Can you get rid of them?"
"They're too far away...unless you want me to hop off and jump them."
"Nah, nevermind. I got it."
Virgil removed his hand from the steering wheel and reached back to grab his revolver from his hip holster. Without looking back, he pointed it over his shoulder and fired three shots. The first missed, but the second and third struck the bike's front tire. With the rubber blown, the vehicle veered off-course, crashing into a rusted dumpster and sending the pair of gangsters hurtling through the air. Both landed hard on the concrete, skidding across the rough surface.
"Nice shot."
Virgil didn't respond. He simply returned his focus to driving.
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At the Aether Clinic, Edith finished cleaning and disinfecting the knife wound of the wounded truck driver, who remained unconscious. Thankfully, there weren't any major internal injuries. The man would recover, though he'd be in a great deal of pain once he woke up.
Still, Edith decided to monitor him in the clinic just in case. She checked the IV drip in his arm and adjusted the flow rate. She noticed the driver stir a little.
"If you want to sleep more, I can sedate you. Though, I'm certain you have plenty of questions for me, Mr..." Edith inquired, pulling out a penlight from her lab coat's pocket. "I never got your name."
The man slowly opened his eyes, groaning as he tried to sit up. "Name's Rex, Doc. You saved me. How long was I out? How'd you find me?"
"Not too long," Edith responded as she shined the penlight into his eyes and checked his pupils for response. "How do you feel, Rex?"
"Like shit, Doc." Rex rubbed his forehead, wincing as he touched the bandage covering his injury. "Guess that's to be expected." He grimaced as he tried to adjust himself on the hospital bed. "My truck...?"
A knock on the doorframe drew her attention. Edith looked up to see Virgil and Fii standing in the doorway.
"Your truck is safe, along with your cargo," Virgil replied. "The gang who stole it are now licking their wounds. Though, if I know those lowlifes, they'll be back on the streets as soon as their bones heal." He stepped through the threshold, removing his Stetson as he approached. "Mind if I come in? Got some follow-ups."
Edith waved him in. "Be my guest. I just finished examining Rex here. No other serious injuries so far. He'll live, thankfully."
"That's good to hear," Virgil noted. He took a seat at the foot of the bed and crossed one leg over the other.
As Virgil began asking his series of questions, Edith left the room and closed the door.
Fii followed her out and to the alley where the recovered truck was parked. The back was wide open, revealing its precious cargo. Edith grinned gleefully as she took in the sight, a massive shipment of equipment, machinery, and rare materials for her experiments.
"Is that what you were waiting for?" Fii asked, poking her head out from behind Edith's shoulder. "Seems like a lot."
"Only a few of these are for me, the rest of it is probably going to the Rust Market or Forge Town, but yeah. It's perfect. Almost everything I need to fix your new helmet is here, plus some extra parts for another project."
Fii tilted her head curiously. "What's this other project you're talking about?"
Edith snapped her fingers. "Sorry, can't say just yet, but this is big stuff, trust me. Anyways, how did it go?"
Fii rolled her shoulders, letting out a sigh of relief. "Honestly? It went surprisingly well. Didn't think I'd take down a whole gang so easily." She chuckled, shaking her head. "It seemed almost unfair; like I was beating up kids on the playground."
"Well, considering you have superhuman powers and they have none, that's not surprising," Edith remarked, giving Fii a wry smirk. "I guess all that training is paying off."
"Definitely." Fii stretched her arms overhead and cracked her knuckles loudly. "So, what should we do with all this stuff?" She gestured to the contents of the truck. "Just leave it here until we unpack it or bring it to Forge Town and the Rust Market?"
Edith rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Virgil can probably deliver it to the respective places, though, I suppose I should ask him and make sure he doesn't try to steal anything for himself." She paused, placing a hand gently on the younger girl's shoulder. "Regardless, well done today, Fii."
Fii blinked in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected praise. "Um, thanks."
Edith nodded, withdrawing her touch. "You've been progressing so much over the past few months. It's really quite impressive. I mean, you went from a snot-nosed, illiterate, bratty street rat to, well, this." She gave Fii a quick once-over, arching an eyebrow approvingly. "And, yes, that is a compliment."
Fii flushed a bright crimson, scratching her cheek sheepishly. "Heh, well, thank you. It was all, um, thanks to you and Virgil." Her blush deepened, her cheeks turning tomato-red as she averted her gaze from Edith's intense stare. "A-and, uh, Sheri too."
The corner of Edith's mouth tugged upwards as she watched the younger girl squirm uncomfortably. "Anyway, let's get this all sorted out." She turned her back on Fii, moving towards the truck and beginning to organize its contents.
"Right!" Fii chimed in, helping her unload the items.
Edith kept her gaze focused on her work, but in her periphery, she could tell Fii was still flustered, and she couldn't help but chuckle internally. The girl's innocence was endearing in a strange way. Maybe she should give her more compliments in the future, perhaps with less teasing attached.
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image [https://i.imgur.com/JJoWtRA.png]