At times like this, Fii missed the helmet she used to wear along with her Axion suit. It had night vision, among many other benefits, and would have made this task less precarious. Right now, she was squatting behind the large industrial vents on top of one of the sector's derelict factories, hoping the shadows and her dark clothes would be enough to keep her hidden.

The usual dingy smog of the slums served as an extra veil to shroud her presence, but still, if someone happened to glance her way and knew what to look for, they might spot her hiding there. If she still had her helmet, she could have hidden further back where nobody would have been able to spot her, while still being able to monitor the platform.

But that was the past, and now she had no helmet and no fancy night vision. All she had to rely on were her regular eyes and ears. Still, she had a very good vantage point.

Below her was an old rusted platform that served as the landing place for the various deliveries that came through the area. Right now, the platform was empty except for a few small crates and two Zippers standing guard, chatting with each other.

Her mind kept drifting back to what had happened in that ambush, how she had been paralyzed by those drones and dropped like a fly. She wouldn't let that happen again. Not tonight.

The decoy shipment appeared moments later, escorted by two Zippers that she didn't recognize. The carriers began to offload the cargo onto the platform, setting down nondescript boxes marked with ominous " Handle with Care" and " Fragile" stickers.

As she continued her vigil, something suddenly shifted in the corner of her eye—a glint of metal in the darkness, a subtle movement that betrayed the presence of others approaching. The faint hum of drones soon followed, growing louder with each passing second.

Just in time.

Like clockwork, the invading group revealed themselves. In a poorly choreographed move, they descended from all sides, some clanking down noisily from the neighboring buildings, while others emerged from the shadows. A handful rode the ziplines above, coasting down to land on the platform in unison, their grapple lines snapping onto the railings.

They weren't subtle, but then again, their objective wasn't stealth. It was intimidation.

Now, now, now!

Fii vaulted over the ledge of the roof and dove towards the platform below.

As the drones moved in—their bright beams sliced through the smoky air, forming a spotlight on the platform—she reached with her power and twisted gravity around them.

The drones spiraled out of control, crashing into the nearby buildings with sparks and screeching metal. Several of them tumbled and fell, clanking and bouncing off the platform's railing to the depths below.

That caused the new arrivals to come to a halt, looking around in confusion. An opening she wasn't going to waste.

She flew above them and angled her hands down at the intruders below. With a flex of her wrist, she connected to each of them and inverted gravity.

They began to float, flailing in the air. A few scrambled to hold onto whatever they could find to avoid being lifted into the sky. Others, those with quicker reflexes, attached their grappling hooks to the platform and pulled themselves back down.

"Hello, boys!" Fii called out, floating high in the air. "Remember me? That's right. It's your favorite pain in the ass."

"Shit!" one of the invaders cursed. "It's her!"

Fii moved her hands in a twisting motion, as though she was grasping each of them in her fist. With that, she flung the floating attackers away.

Some collided with crates or railings. A few dangled precariously from their tethers, struggling to pull themselves back to safety, while others were ripped away from their handholds and sent crashing to the platform in a jumble of limbs and shouts, sprawling inelegantly across the worn metal surface.

Even in the heat of the moment, she took care to make sure they wouldn't fall off the platform.

Their weapons, on the other hand, weren't so lucky. With a swift extension of her hand and a quick gesture, she expelled every weapon in sight, hurling them far off the platform.

As she floated down to the platform, she levitated the downed assailants towards her. They struggled, but her control was undeniable.

Now this went much better than before. This was how it was supposed to go down.

She addressed the bewildered Zipper guards. "You guys all right?"

They nodded.

"Good, I'll take it from here. Why don't you load up the shipment and head out. I'll make sure these losers learn their lesson." As they hastily retreated, she turned her attention to the would-be thieves, who were still floating in the air around her.

"Alright, now listen up," she began. "This job? It's a bust. Kaput. Whatever you're up to, whatever your endgame is, consider it toast. Me? I'm the toaster. And you're the bread."

She felt mighty proud of that metaphor. Granted not everyone had a toaster or even knew what it was. But bread? Everyone knew bread!

She got some perplexed looks, so she continued, "What I'm saying is—just because you're all brighter than a busted bulb doesn't mean you can keep trying to poach runs from people who need them. You've broken one of our rules. Nobody steals from Zippers on the job. Period."

One of the attackers, dangling from his feet, dared to speak. "You're not gonna kill us, are you?"

"Kill you? Oh, no, no, no." She floated closer and hovered around them in circles. "Not for this, at least."

She paused, locking eyes with them. "I will, however, give you a proper thrashing. And then you're gonna tell me where your dive is, and who's calling the shots. Those who cooperate might even walk away from this. Maybe. Those who don't... might find themselves plummeting from very high places. Sound good?"

"Can't we just, like, surrender?" one of them asked.

"I mean, sure you can," she responded nonchalantly, continuing to hover around them. "But that won't get you off the hook. Either you're gonna give up what I want, or I'm gonna go full vengeance mode. Trust me, the first option is waaaaay better for everyone involved."

"She's lying!" one of the assailants finally cried out. "You turn on him and you're dead. We all are."

She heard a name being whispered amongst them—Mox.

"Mox, huh? That your boss?" Her gaze swept over the terrified faces. "Who here can take me to Mox?"

"I—I can." One of the captured men finally spoke up, his voice trembling. "I'll show you where he is."

"Great." She cracked her knuckles, letting a menacing smile play on her lips. "The rest of you? Be prepared for a long, long night."

----------------------------------------

Floating in the air, Fii kept the intruders tightly bound with her power. The one who promised to lead her to Mox was spared the more extreme treatment and simply forced to follow closely as the group began navigating a maze of old factories and broken-down buildings.

Fii took her time, maintaining a leisurely pace as she carried her captives in tow. The threat of immediate harm was more a tool of persuasion than an actual promise; however, she ensured that her grip was uncomfortably snug, a silent reminder of who held the reins.

The sector of the slums they were traversing was one of the most deprived in the entire city, with ramshackle structures and rickety makeshift bridges stretching over the narrow alleys below. Some buildings seemed to lean precariously into each other, forming haphazard arches that threatened to collapse at any moment.

Every so often, as they passed by windows or balconies, curious faces peered out, observing the bizarre procession in awe. This was probably the first time someone had been casually strolling through the air, pulling along a parade of defeated ruffians.

The sight was definitely noteworthy and likely to be the talk of the town—or slum—by the next day.

Fii basked in the attention, even acknowledging some of the onlookers with a nonchalant wave, though her focus remained on the captives.

Soon, they arrived at their destination: an unremarkable, rundown building that stood out only by virtue of its utter ordinariness. A gentle hum from an antiquated HVAC unit atop the roof lent the structure a semblance of life amid the stillness.

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"All right." Fii released the guide from her power. "Lead the way. Any tricks or sudden moves, and I'll use you as a battering ram, got it?"

"Y-yeah, I get it," the guide stammered, sweat beading his forehead.

They entered, with Fii continuing to hold the ruffians in her grasp.

The interior of the building was dimly lit and exuded a pervasive musty odor. Old machinery parts lay strewn about the open space, making the whole place look like a disorganized warehouse. A couple of half-assembled drone models sat in a corner, their innards exposed and wires sticking out. The dust-laden air tickled at Fii's nose, and she had to resist the urge to sneeze.

"Where is everyone?" she asked. "Bit of a ghost town, don't you think?"

"It's usually livelier," the guide replied, glancing around. "M-maybe they're all out on another heist right now." He paused, swallowing hard. "Usually, we've got a crew hanging around and someone tinkering with the tech."

"Then where's Mox?" she probed, her tone hardening slightly. "Thought you said this was his HQ."

"Ah, well, he's... not exactly the sociable type." He shifted uneasily on his feet. "Let's try his 'office'—it's just ahead."

With the captives in tow, Fii continued to follow her guide towards a large sliding door at the other end of the room. Upon reaching it, her guide pressed a button, causing the door to grind open noisily.

On the other side was a surprisingly spacious and well-lit hall filled with rows of old server racks on either side. The air was much cooler here, thanks to the air conditioners humming away atop the racks. An occasional beep and the flicker of LEDs signaled they were at least partially operational. Whoever maintained these relics had done an impressive job.

The guide gestured to a doorway at the far end, flanked by two inactive, readied auto-turrets and a set of security cameras. "Mox is probably in there. Or his guards will be, at least."

"All right, you're off the hook." With that, Fii released him, watching as he bolted from the scene.

Alone once more, but with a string of captives floating in her wake, Fii approached the turreted door. The security cameras tracked her movements, but the turrets remained inert. After a brief moment, there was a click and the door hissed open. She stepped inside.

Beyond the door lay a smaller room, only about half the size of the hall behind her. A long desk occupied the back, adorned with various bits of tech scattered on top and a triad of monitors that provided the primary illumination.

Sitting in front of the desk was a lone man, illuminated by the glow of the screens. His back was turned to her, his focus seemingly on a terminal. As she approached, he slowly swiveled his chair to face her, revealing an overweight man in his forties with a ratty beard and eyes that darted between her and the captives that floated behind her in a tight ball.

He sported a faded yellow t-shirt and a pair of baggy shorts, and his feet were bare. His girth added to the impression of him being more a shut-in than a gang leader.

Fii did a double-take.

Maybe she was a bit biased because of her experiences in the slums, but she had expected Mox to look... well, a lot more intimidating. Instead, he reminded her of someone's neglected uncle who had a penchant for hacking into things he shouldn't.

Was this guy really their boss?

"Um, are you Mox?" she asked, baffled.

The man tilted his head, rubbing a hand across his double chin.

"Hi," he finally replied. "In the flesh, as it were."

"Er, well, this is unexpected. Your goons had me thinking you were... different," she admitted.

Mox raised an eyebrow. "Had you picturing a hardened, cyber-enhanced thug, did they?"

Her silence was answer enough.

Mox chuckled, his belly shaking as he did. "People see what I look like and assume I'm a joke."

"And are you? A joke, that is."

His laughter subsided, and Mox leaned back in his chair, scrutinizing her. "Do I look like one? But appearances aside, you, slumshine, have been quite the buzzkill, playing superhero down in my little domain. Don't you think that's a bit... inconvenient for me?"

Fii nodded at the huddled mass of would-be hijackers behind her. "They your crew?"

"Yeah. Were doing good work. Then you started being a problem." Mox gestured for her to come closer. "Honestly, I don't get you. You've been on every turf, all over the place, showing up and... What exactly do you get out of it?"

With a swift motion of her hand, Fii flung the huddle of captives into a corner of the room where they ended up pressed against the wall. The sound of their impact filled the room with an uncomfortable thud.

"Just trying to do some good around here," Fii finally said. "Trying to keep the slums a place where we don't prey on our own. You and your goons broke the code when you started ambushing Zipper runs."

"So what, now you're going to make an example of them? Of me?" Mox huffed, pointing towards her with a half-eaten synthie bar. "What do you think will come of that?"

"Well, they don't do much more bullying, for a start."

He sighed. "Slumshine, how do you think these boys put food on their tables? Why are they in a gang? Why are they risking their hides on those jobs?"

"Plenty of folks work hard and play fair to get by," she replied.

"Don't lecture me, kid," Mox snapped back, his voice sharp. "These boys have mouths to feed, families to take care of. Some are just dumb, and this is all they know. I've given them direction, structure. A chance to make their mark without taking each other out."

"And to get that, they make trouble for the whole neighborhood?"

"Don't think I'm some bleeding heart." Mox drummed his fingers on the desk, a smug air about him. "This operation, it makes me money. Keeps me fed, warm. I got an arrangement with a bigger fish. They use my boys as muscle, I get a cut."

He took another bite of his bar. "You mess with that, and someone with more of a killer instinct will come around. Trust me, you're better off having me as the devil you know than the one you don't."

Fii folded her arms. "That a threat?"

"Nah, just the truth." Mox shrugged, finishing off his snack. "There's always someone nastier around the corner. The Circuit Breakers were on the verge of taking me out before I negotiated to be their proxy. And when I say 'taking out,' I don't mean a polite relocation."

She glanced back at the gangsters still pressed against the wall and then turned to Mox. "These chumps are part of the Circuit Breakers, too?"

"No," Mox replied sharply. "My own crew. Locals." He emphasized this last word. "The Circuit Breakers are all about the tech—the gear, the hacking. They're too posh to roll around in the dirt with us. Don't want their shiny toys to get scuffed."

"And those drones that zapped me the other day? That was their work, not yours?" she probed, stepping closer to the desk.

"Oh, those beauties? Custom-built and rigged. If they were mine, I wouldn't be scrapping together hand-me-downs or second-hand market leftovers. I'd have a proper army of them." Mox nodded, his confidence resurfacing. "Bet you anything they were designed to hunt someone like you—some poor slum-rat with powers, something to knock you out of the sky."

A pause hung between them. "Doesn't change that your goons were playing ambush. Whatever deal you had going, I'm not a fan of it. Those parts they were stealing? They were supposed to get to someone who could really make a difference. Instead, they get snatched up to feed your fat gut?"

"Aww, aren't you noble?" he mocked. "Well, I've got news for you. Your idea of 'good' isn't profitable. So, why not put those powers to a better use?"

"Look, you're not the first gang boss to try recruiting me, okay? I've heard the same spiel from all of them. Join us, be part of the family, make some ChitCreds, blah blah blah." She folded her arms over her chest. "And frankly? It's getting old."

"Are you even interested in hearing me out?"

"Nope." Fii stepped closer. "Here's how this is gonna play out. Your little operation is done. No more poaching shipments. No more threatening Zipper crews. If you try anything like that again, I'll know. And I'll come back. You don't want me to come back."

"You're really that confident, huh? Sure you want to waltz in here and start making demands?" His chubby hand moved to caress a large red button embedded in the armrest of his chair. "This could get messy."

Without missing a beat, Fii levitated him off his chair and flipped him upside down in the air. Mox let out a yelp of surprise as his belly jiggled with the sudden maneuver.

Fii's voice was hard and steady. "Red buttons are for losers who can't back up their threats. You'd better have more than that to throw at me."

"Okay, okay, point taken." His voice quavered a bit from being upside down. "No need to get all twisted out of shape. I see your point. You can put me down now."

She obliged, but her eyes didn't leave him for a second. But just for good measure, she also crushed his chair under his weight to ensure he wasn't going to try anything funny. As Mox groaned and struggled to his feet, she kept an eye on the mass of henchmen still squished together in the corner. None of them looked eager to make a move against her.

"Now, I'll say this again. Here's your options, tubster." Fii loomed over him, her hand resting on her hip as she pointed a finger at him. "You're gonna play nice, or I'm gonna come back and make your life a whole lot worse. Got it?"

Mox sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine, fine. You win. We'll back off. Happy now?"

She gestured to the tangle of men in the corner. "That goes for all of you. Unless you want another session of face-meets-wall. Got it?"

There was a chorus of subdued "yeses" and "got its," mixed with a few grumbles of "damn Super" and "not fair."

Fii turned back to Mox, her hand once again finding her hip. "One last question. Those drones you have? That tech's too good to be yours. You dealing with someone?"

Mox shifted his weight, avoiding her eyes. "Well, uh, yeah, I've got a few connections. Some parts came from this gang called Circuit Breakers. Had to borrow from them for a bit to get our operation rolling."

"Borrow?"

He rubbed his hands nervously. "Okay, okay. So maybe there was some selling of services to pay them back, but hey, we're businessmen here. We understand the value of a deal, right?"

"What were you selling?" she asked.

"Info," he admitted. "It's like, 'you scratch my back, I get your data,' that kind of thing."

"Is that how your posse knew about that tech shipment? Insider info?"

He coughed awkwardly. "Maybe?"

Fii approached him, her stance unwavering. "Here's what's gonna happen. You're going to pass along a message to those Circuit Breakers. Tell 'em to back the hell off. If they don't, I'll find them, and I'll have a very similar, very unpleasant discussion with them."

"Look, no need for the tough talk. If I relay your message, I don't think they'll like it," Mox said, fidgeting. "They're not the type to appreciate getting muscled, you know?"

"I'm not here to win any popularity contests," she retorted. "Make sure they understand, I'm not giving them a choice in this."

With that, Fii turned to leave, but not before reaching out with her power and dismantling several of the nearby computer towers.

"Hey, easy, easy! You're trashing my livelihood here!"

With a dismissive wave, she shrugged and made her way back through the building. "Send the bill to the Circuit Breakers. Consider it a tax for being a pain. If you keep your nose clean, maybe we'll cross paths for a drink or something. But I doubt it. See you around, tubster."