End Before the New Beginning

"They're splitting up properly this time," Henry announced as we sprinted toward our vehicles. "Two heading toward the industrial district, three taking the central bridge route."

"Smart," I muttered. "Not smart enough though."

We divided seamlessly, like clockwork. Alex rolled her shoulders, already grinning in anticipation. Jade slipped into the backseat of Henry’s car, while I claimed her right side. Meanwhile, Lore’s team crammed into Louvel’s absurdly flashy sports car—a beast that looked more suited for a high-budget music video than a high-stakes chase. But its speed was undeniable.

"Please, please, PLEASE," Henry was muttering as he started his new car—a sleek black sedan he'd bought just two days ago. "I just got the custom upholstery. Do you know how hard it is to find someone who'll put in bullet-proof seats without asking questions?"

"You jinxed it," Jade sang from the backseat. "Now something's definitely going to happen to it."

"Don't." Henry pointed at her in the rearview mirror. "Don't you dare. Last time it was Lore and Alex, who messed up my baby. And I’m still angry about it." He shot Alex a glair.

"It was fine," Alex shrugged. "And that's what insurance is for."

"You can't just keep writing off destroyed cars as 'acts of God'!"

"Technically, metas are acts of God."

I stifled a laugh as Henry brought up the tracking display on his dash. His focus locked onto two blinking markers on the map. "Got them. First group’s heading for the Central Bridge—North to West District. The other’s angling for the warehouse district." He let out a frustrated groan. "Why is it always warehouses? Do villains get a bulk discount on abandoned properties or something?"

Through the comms, Louvel’s voice cut in, smug and mischievous. "How about a little friendly competition? First team to bring down their targets gets bragging rights. And drinks are on the losers."

"No racing," I said firmly, just as Henry growled, "You're on."

We tore out of the lot, tires screeching, engines roaring. Louvel's car vanished ahead like a comet, leaving us to claw after it. Through the comms, I could hear Gina whooping with excitement while Lore demanded everyone buckle up.

"Left at the next light," Henry barked, eyes darting between the road and the tracker glowing on the dashboard. His fingers twitched on the wheel. "I'll take the bridge route."

"Got it," Louvel’s voice crackled over comms, followed by a muffled argument in the background.

"Vinico, stop backseat driving! I know what I’m doing!"

"You absolutely do not!" Vinico shot back, voice sharp with panic. "You're driving like a madman! Slow it down a little—I can't even see outside anymore!"

Laughter. Gina and Placid, unbothered as ever. "Hahaha."

Henry barely had time to roll his eyes before he took the next corner so sharp it felt like gravity forgot to apply. My stomach lurched, the tires shrieking against asphalt as we careened onto a narrower street.

"They're splitting up further," Henry growled, hands white-knuckling the wheel. "Getting crafty." His voice took on a dangerous edge. "If they scratch my car, I swear—"

"Focus on driving," I cut in.

"They're approaching the container yard," Henry announced. "Louvel, you in position?"

"Almost. Just need to—VINICO, I SWEAR IF YOU GRAB THE WHEEL AGAIN—"

There was an audible scuffle over the line, punctuated by a string of expletives and something that sounded suspiciously like Louvel elbowing Vinico in the ribs.

I clicked my comms. "Everyone focus. These aren't your everyday criminals. These are the Bakers. They're insane, but they're brilliant. Be ready for anything."

City lights streaked past, neon reflections bending over our windshield as both cars surged through the night. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, but the looming container yard ahead meant we were running out of road. The game board was shrinking fast.

And then—

"Hey?" Jade’s voice carried an unsettling casualness.

I blinked at her, "Yeah?"

"I think Henry’s car is about to get that scratch he was worried about."

"Why would you say tha—OH COME ON!" Henry’s groan was practically wounded as he whined.

Alex also took his shot, “Oh, cheer up. Worst case? We walk away with a little car damage."

Henry’s expression darkened. "Say that again, and I’m ejecting you from this vehicle."

…

…

…

Fifteen minutes.

That’s how long it took to finally get eyes on the Bakers’ car as it sped toward the massive bridge linking the North and West districts. The structure loomed ahead, its towering suspension cables slicing the night sky into geometric shadows. Kilometers of concrete and steel stretched over the dark water, the reflection of city lights shimmering below like ghostly fireflies.

Henry’s grip tightened on the wheel. “Got you.” His voice was low, satisfied.

He pushed the engine harder, the growl of our acceleration bouncing off the bridge’s colossal support beams as we gained ground.

The Bakers’ taillights flared brighter in our windshield, a heartbeat away.

Then Alex leaned forward from seat, voice loud and urgent. “Ram them.”

Henry’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “Excuse me?” His outraged stare flicked to the rearview mirror. “This is a custom-built—”

“RAM THEM!” Alex was already bracing himself, grinning like a lunatic. “They’re about to do something. I can feel it.”

He absolutely did not feel anything. If Alex had a sixth sense, it was for taking pleasure in others misfortune. And he was exploiting the fact that Henry’s brain was so overloaded with calculations and stress that he couldn’t filter out truth from absolute nonsense.

Henry hesitated for a split second, his life flashing before his eyes—or maybe just the image of his perfect leather seats. Then, with a noise that was equal parts rage and resignation, he growled, “I hate all of you.”

And slammed the accelerator.

The car lurched forward, the engine howling as we closed the last few meters. The Bakers must have seen us coming, because their car suddenly shot forward, tires squealing, their engine screaming in protest.

“Do it!” Alex barked. “What are you worried about? I promise I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.”

Henry let out a strangled, suffering noise—and yanked the wheel.

The impact was brutal. Our front end smashed into their back bumper with a crunch that probably shaved years off Henry’s life expectancy. The force sent both vehicles swerving violently, the screech of tires cutting through the night like a warning siren.

The Bakers’ car fishtailed hard, nearly spinning out, but somehow—against all logic and fairness—they recovered, their car regaining traction and bolting forward even faster.Henry’s foot stayed planted on the gas, matching their speed, the needle on the speedometer ticking toward suicidal levels. His knuckles were a death grip on the wheel.

"My car," he was muttering. "My beautiful, expensive, definitely-not-insured-for-this car.”

The bridge turned into a high-speed battlefield, the lanes narrowing ahead, steel cables flickering past in our peripheral vision. The Bakers’ driver swerved, cutting into the next lane so sharply that a delivery truck barely had time to react. The massive vehicle blared its horn, brakes screaming as it jackknifed trying to avoid collision.

Henry jerked us left at the last possible second, barely squeezing past the truck’s front end.

"They're trying to shake us!" Jade called from the back, eyes flicking between the road and her tracker.

"No kidding!" Henry snapped. His car hugged the road

Then, as if driving recklessly wasn’t insane enough, the Bakers’ passenger window rolled down.

Alex noticed it first. “Uh-oh.”

Before we could react, the glint of a weapon caught the light.

"They’ve got blasters!" I shouted.

Henry’s voice rose an entire octave. "WHAT?! WHY?! That is entirely unnecessary!”

A flash of muzzle fire burst from their window. The first hot shot melted past our windshield, missing us by inches. The second pinged off the hood.

Jade was already ducking down, yanking her own blaster, “I can hit their tires.”

Henry’s horrified expression flicked to the rearview mirror. “No! Do you know what happens when a car loses control at these speeds? We all die!”

Alex smirked. “Sounds like a ‘them’ problem.”

“IT IS VERY MUCH AN US PROBLEM.”

Another shot melted the side mirror, spraying glass. Henry let out a strangled noise that could have been either rage or grief.

Alex grinned. “That’s it. You should ram them again.”

“I will kill you in your sleep.”

Still, Henry followed their every move, his beloved car proving its worth as it clung to the road like a lifeline at absolutely reckless speeds. The city lights blurred past in streaks of yellow and white, but up ahead—

"They're trying to lose us in the construction zone," Henry called out, eyes locking on the looming mess of scaffolding, concrete barriers, and half-finished ramps ahead. Red and white caution signs flickered in our headlights like silent warnings.

Alex leaned forward between the seats, eyes sharp. "Push harder. Don’t let them—"

His words cut off as the Bakers' car suddenly sputtered. Not a good kind of sputter—the engine-is-dying-a-horrible-death kind.

I didn't need to look at Jade to know she was smiling. Her silver eyes were locked on the Bakers’ vehicle, her lips slightly parted. Her hands clutching mine tightly.

Then their car jerked—once, twice—before it completely lost control.

Smoke billowed from under the hood. Their vehicle swerved wildly, tires screeching before it spun out of control. The car skidded sideways, coming to a brutal stop across two lanes of traffic. Horns blared as civilian cars screeched to a halt around them. A delivery truck barely avoided impact, skidding onto the shoulder. The whole road became a metallic symphony of brakes and curses.

Henry slammed our brakes, the car jerking to a stop fifty feet away.

His hands were shaking—whether from stress or the sheer rage of having his car involved in another catastrophe, I wasn’t sure.

Then the passenger door of the Bakers' vehicle exploded open.

A man in a lab coat practically fell out, his face red with rage. Two more followed. All three of them looked equally deranged.

Jade exhaled sharply. "I hate it when villains wear lab coats. It always means weird science nonsense."

“Incoming," I warned as the trio stalked toward us, their body language aggressively unhinged.

The tallest one—a gaunt man with wild, silver-streaked hair—was foaming slightly at the mouth as he flailed his arms in our direction.

"YOU!" he shrieked, voice cracking with hysteria. "You’ve been interfering ALL NIGHT!"

Henry rubbed his temple. "Oh God. They're monologuing."

"First the demonstration," the lab-coated menace continued, "then the boats, NOW THIS!"

The second Baker, a stocky man with burn scars up his arms, pointed an accusing finger at us. "Our groundbreaking experiment was on the verge of success! And then you incompetent vigilantes destroyed everything!"

Jade leaned out the window slightly. "Pretty sure you crashed your own car, buddy. I had no hand in it"

The third one, a twitchy-looking man with unsettlingly bright eyes, gave an eerie, giddy laugh. "Oooohhh, but this is better! Yes, yes! This is better! Now we can test directly on you!"

The wild-haired scientist ripped off his coat dramatically—because of course he did—revealing a metallic harness strapped across his chest.

Was he into BDSM, I silently wondered.

"Enough talk!" he howled. "We'll just take your bodies apart for the data instead!"

Alex rolled his shoulders. "See? Told you. Stupid."

The First Baker took point, his body seemed to be charging up. The Second fingered something in his pocket, while the Third adjusted what looked like a mechanical bracer on his forearm. I felt the familiar tingle as my Likeness activated, and the world bloomed into color – dark red warnings pulsed around each Baker, while threads of orange chaos writhed through the growing traffic jam.

"Henry," I said quietly, still scanning the flares of danger. "How many people are around us?"

Henry’s voice was distant, already crunching the numbers. "Give me a second... Forty-three cars. Seventy people, maybe more."

A bad number. Too many moving parts. Too many lives in the balance.

Then, the First Baker began to change. Muscles swelled beneath his lab coat, stretching the fabric until it ripped at the seams. He rolled his shoulders, and the ground beneath him cracked as he took a single step forward.

I narrowed my eyes. A thread of silver light tethered him to the crowd behind us.

Whatever his ability was, it had something to do with the crowd.

"You feel that?" His voice was suddenly deeper, heavier, like it resonated with something beyond himself. "That’s seventy people’s worth of strength. Want to see what I can do with it?"

Alex grinned. "You guys can handle the other two, right?" He rolled his shoulders, golden air of invincibility crackling faintly around his frame. "I've got this big one."

"Wait—" I started, but Alex was already moving forward.

Before I could warn him, the First Baker exploded into motion. One moment he was twenty feet away.

The next—

BOOM.

His fist collided with Alex’s chest like a thunderclap, sending a shockwave rippling through the air. The ground beneath them fractured, the sheer force of impact kicking up dust and shattered pavement. Alex slid back a few feet, boots carving lines into the asphalt—But he stayed standing. Completely unharmed.

"That all?" Alex asked, curiosity genuine.

The golden air shimmered around him, his body absorbing the force effortlessly.

The First Baker’s expression twisted in confusion.

Then frustration.

Then—rage.

The Second Baker seized the moment.

His hand shot out, pulling a handful of gray clay from his pocket. His fingers moved rapidly, skillfully, shaping dozens of tiny figures in seconds. They dropped to the pavement like lethal raindrops.Each one no bigger than a thumb, yet somehow—alive. Immediately, they scattered, skittering toward the civilian vehicles.

Henry cursed. "No, no, NO—"

"Jade—!" I snapped, but she was already moving.

She raised her hand, silver light flashing in her irises. And the tiny clay figures froze in midair, as if caught in an invisible web.

The Second Baker snarled. "Tch. Thought you might do something like that."

He snapped his fingers—

And the **tiny figures ****detonated.

A chain reaction of miniature explosions rippled through the bridge. Car alarms screamed. Glass shattered. Metal groaned and twisted.The shockwaves sent civilians who had stepped out to watch the show, ducking behind their vehicles, panic rippling through the crowd.

The Third Baker took his chance. He twisted the dial on his bracer, and the device let out a high-pitched whine. He was going for Henry. Henry’s eyes widened.

"Oh, HELL no—"

He barely had time to react before the Third Baker was on him. A blurred fist lashed out, and Henry dodged by pure instinct, twisting just enough to narrowly avoid the bracer’s strike.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"I would like to be EXCLUDED from this narrative!"

The First Baker was raging now, swinging at Alex with massive, earth-shaking blows—but Alex was barely trying, dodging easily, letting his own momentum wear him down.

The Second Baker was already molding more clay, his fingers moving at impossible speed.

Suddenly, Jade took charge. Feeling, it was her time to show off, and she knew it. Her silver eyes flicked over the bridge, landing on the tiny, scrambling figures—the cute monstrosities that had been terrorizing civilians just moments ago.

With a flick of her wrist, she plucked one of the tiny clay figures from the pavement. The thing twitched violently, its miniature limbs flailing. If it had lungs, it’d be screaming.

Jade tilted her head, studying it like a curious scientist examining an insect.

“Interesting little trick,” she mused. Then she squeezed. "But today is a very unlucky day for you."

The tiny figure cracked in half. And across the battlefield, every single one of its brethren followed suit. The horde of living clay monsters collapsed, their fragile forms crumbling like puppets with severed strings. Some froze mid-run, others toppled off car roofs, skidding lifelessly across the pavement.

The Second Baker let out a strangled gasp, his hands shaking. “W-What? No! That’s impossible! Why they are not detonating”

Jade simply tilted her head, silver gaze flicking to him like she was studying an insect.

“Oh? You thought I'd just let them run around unsupervised?" She gave a delicate shrug. "How careless of you."

The Second Baker’s hands twitched as if trying to force them back under control. But it was useless.

His power had been hijacked.

The Second Baker's face twisted in outrage. "You—"

Meanwhile, the Third Baker let out a frustrated snarl, raising his arm while fighting Henry. The mechanical bracer strapped to it beeped, pulsing with green light. "You think that's all we can—"

Pure red warning symbols flared in my vision—IMMEDIATE DANGER.

I opened my mouth to shout a warning, but Jade’s eyes flicked toward him first to help. And her voice was eerily casual.

"You really shouldn’t have built that so poorly," she noted, as if discussing the weather. "The containment failure rate on prototype sonic weapons is... fascinating."

Immediately, the third Baker's taunt was cut off in an agonized scream. A violent explosion rocked the air—not a fiery detonation, but a wet, meaty sound. Henry froze. Third Baker collapsed onto his knees, howling in agony, staring at the bloody ruin of his arm. His bracer gadget—or what was left of it—was scattered across the asphalt in mangled, sparking chunks, along with a fair bit of his own flesh.

And whatever he had been planning was over.

"Oh wow," Alex muttered. "That is gruesome."

The Third Baker screamed again, voice raw and louder from all the pain, his remaining hand clutching at the stump where his dominant hand used to be. His entire body shook violently from the shock.

Jade let out a small sigh, like she was disappointed.

"I told you," she said, her voice silky smooth. "Your containment seals were sloppy."

The Third Baker sputtered, face twisting in horror. "Y-You—You did this—"

Jade tilted her head again, mock surprise flickering across her face. "No," she said sweetly. "Your stupid meta engineering did this."

"She’s so mean," Henry muttered under his breath.

"I love it," Alex added.

The Second Baker spun in panic, hands flying to mold more clay figures. But he was too slow.Henry materialized behind him like a ghost. Before the Baker could react, Henry’s boot connected with his face. The Baker collapsed, his head snapping back with a sickening crack. Henry didn’t stop.

He was on him in a second, pinning him down, fists flying. The Baker let out a weak, gurgled noise, blood dripping from his mouth, his face already turning into raw hamburger meat.

I whistled lowly. "Jeez, Henry."

Alex let out a low whistle while fighting his own battle, but still somehow having time to divide his attention. "He’s been holding that in all night, huh?"

"It’s a cathartic process," I replied.

Jade didn’t wait for us. She was already moving toward the Third Baker, who was still cradling the remains of his hand, his breath coming in shaky, erratic bursts.

I groaned. "Oh, come on, Jade. You’re just taking all the fun now."

She ignored me and walked—graceful, calculated—her heels clicking sharply against the cracked asphalt. She was more villain than the three of these so-called Bakers. The Third Baker looked up, eyes full of raw terror. He tried to scramble backward, but he was weak, bleeding, completely out of tricks.

Jade smiled. "You know, I was going to let you crawl away."

The Third Baker froze. Then Jade’s heel came down hard. Right onto his remaining hand. He shrieked.

Jade just leaned down, voice silky smooth. "Oops."

The Baker gasped, shuddering violently. "P-Please—"

“No,” Jade cocked her head. "My boyfriend don't let me have fun often, so I need to fill my quota tonight."

Fuck! How was shielding her from the outside harm was my mistake? The dragon was too arrogant that it was infuriating. I shook my head.

Then she kicked him across the face, sending him sprawling on the road.

“Also, you killed a lot of people. You even dared to trap us in an underground tunnel and let a swarm of those mutated rats on us. So I won’t let you go even if you beg.”

In another corner, the tall Baker pushed himself up from the cracked asphalt.

Blood trickled from his split lip, but his smile stretched wide—too wide. He shifted his weight—and suddenly, he was gone. A sonic boom cracked through the air as he propelled forward, a wrecking ball of pure muscle and rage. He slammed into Alex with the force of an oncoming train, sending him flying straight into the side of a sedan. The vehicle crumpled around him, its alarms wailing in discordant, metallic noises. Glass rained down, the frame buckling inward as Alex disappeared into the wreckage.

The First Baker didn’t even wait to see if Alex was still breathing. His focus had already shifted—Jade.

She had been playing with her prey, toying with the Second Baker, his teammate, whose ruined hand twitched feebly as blood pooled beneath him. He barely clung to consciousness, his face twisted in silent agony as Jade lifted her fancy and expensive dress with both her hand and pressed her heels to his chest, her weight just heavy enough to keep him pinned without crushing him.

She didn’t seem concerned by the charging mountain of destruction bearing down on her.

The First Baker’s steps shattered pavement, his sheer mass turning the ground beneath him into craters as he tore toward her with unstoppable momentum.

Nearly unstoppable.

Jade didn’t dodge. She didn’t lunge, or brace herself, or counterattack. Instead, she simply—stepped left.

At the exact moment she needed to.

The First Baker’s charge whiffed by millimeters, his massive fist slamming into empty air. His body, so heavily reinforced with borrowed strength, had no way to adjust mid-motion. His momentum was too much, and his speed too great. He stumbled forward, digging his feet into the asphalt, grinding to a halt just before he could careen into a traffic barrier.

He turned back, rage twisting his expression, his veins pulsing with stolen power. “STOP MOVING!” he bellowed, voice distorting, reverberating like a living earthquake.

Jade simply arched a brow. “Why?”

With an enraged snarl, he charged again—this time even faster. The wind around him howled as he came in with everything he had, an unstoppable force aiming to crush her beneath his weight.Jade let him get closer this time. Just a little. Then, with a perfectly timed motion, she stepped aside again—and let her foot trail, just slightly. It was just enough to trip him. The First Baker’s own momentum turned against him, his body tilting forward at the worst possible angle. He had no way to recover. The sheer force of his charge hurled him straight through the bridge’s safety barrier.

For one sickening second, he dangled over the edge.

Jade watched, unimpressed. “That’s unfortunate.”

Before gravity could finish the job, Alex—who had finally pulled himself out of the wreckage—was already moving.

“Need a hand?” Alex called, far too cheerful for someone who had just been punted through a car.

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the First Baker’s coat and, using the man’s own excessive weight against him, hurled him back onto the bridge. The First Baker crashed down hard, flattening an unfortunate, very expensive car that had been parked nearby. The sound of metal folding was catastrophic.

A man—who had been recording the fight on his phone—let out a strangled gasp as he barely managed to scramble away in time. He stared at the wreckage of his car, his expression one of pure devastation.

His mood, his insurance, and his entire week?

Ruined.

But we weren’t done.

Despite everything, the Third Baker had managed to stagger to his feet, his ruined arm clutched tightly against his body. With a bloodied snarl, he lunged into his coat, scrambling for another gadget, fingers fumbling from the pain and adrenaline.

I watched him closely now, my mind finally clicking into place—his meta ability wasn’t something physical, wasn’t something like Alex’s unbreakable strength or Jade’s shifting odds. His power worked through his gadgets– But I couldn't tell how, because Jade never gave him a chance to put them on display. Anyway, who cared?

He took a small spider-like device. A rapid beeping began to pulse again.

Jade sighed. “Really?”

The Third Baker snarled, shaking, his body barely holding itself together. “Y-You… can’t stop—”

Jade kicked the device right out of his hand in a swift motion. Her fighting skills were very best of the best and the villain's eyes were too slow to catch her movements. The device skidded across the pavement. The device let out one final, pathetic spark before it crumbled into a useless pile of wires and shattered components. Jade didn’t even bother looking at it. Instead, she turned to the Third Baker, who was still shaking, his whole body trembling from blood loss, pain, and the sheer realization that he had just lost everything.

She tilted her head, her silver eyes gleaming in the dim city lights. "You should worry more about your life."

The Third Baker's breath hitched, his good hand clutching at his ruined arm, his chest rising and falling too fast. He looked like a man on the verge of completely falling apart, and he knew it.

Jade's expression shifted, her gaze flattening into something deadpan and unimpressed. "What are the odds of every single one of your weapons failing?"

She let the question hang in the air for a moment, then gave him the exact kind of look you'd give a child who was about to stick a fork into an electrical socket. The Third Baker's mouth opened, like he wanted to say something—some desperate last plea, some final villainous statement, something. But nothing came out.

Jade sighed, as if the entire situation had personally inconvenienced her. "Yeah. Thought so."

It seemed she wasn’t having much fun as she had hoped for before. Then she kicked him in the ribs angrily, venting out her frustration. I could only hope he would be left alive.

Jade dusted off her hands. "Alright, who's next?"

Henry groaned, looking in her direction. "No one, Jade. You ended them all.”

I clicked my tongue, dismissing him, and turned my focus to the First Baker.

In my perception, the First Baker was like a parasite—his power feeding on the people around him. The more people nearby, the stronger he became. And right now? The traffic jam on the bridge, the bystanders still watching, the sheer number of panicked civilians nearby… He was growing stronger by the second.

The First Baker laughed, his voice deeper now, distorted by the sheer power coursing through his veins. His bulky over-muscled arms flexed, veins bulging beneath his skin, thickening unnaturally as he slammed his fists together. A concussive shockwave rippled outward.

“Feel that?” he boomed, his voice reverberating through the metal beams of the bridge. "That’s what a human battery can do."

His gaze locked onto Alex first. Then Jade. And finally, back to Alex. His grin stretched wide, teeth flashing. “Let’s see how you handle me now.”

He moved. Before, he had been fast. Now? He was unstoppable. One moment, he was standing there. The next, he was on top of Alex, fists raised.

BOOM.

The impact shook the small section of the bridge. Both fists slammed into Alex’s torso with the force of a freight train—the asphalt beneath them cratered instantly, sending chunks of concrete flying outward. A massive shockwave rippled around them, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the structure. The Baker’s fists met resistance—but it wasn’t the kind he expected. His entire body buckled, arms shaking as his full-powered attack stopped dead in Alex’s grip. The force had left deep imprints in Alex’s arms, but he remained. Unmovable. Unshaken. Unbreakable.

A slow exhale escaped Alex’s lips. His fingers tightened around the Baker’s fists. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Alex’s voice was calm, almost disappointed.

The First Baker snarled, his arms tensing, trying to force the strike through. Nothing happened. Alex’s grip tightened further. A vein popped in the Baker’s forehead as he struggled against the inevitable.

“You hit like a truck,” Alex admitted, tilting his head slightly. Then he smiled. "But I’ve been hit by worse."

With a grunt, Alex twisted his grip and the massive Baker flipped through the air, his oversized body slamming into the concrete with a bone-rattling crash that shook nearby cars. Metal groaned, alarms wailed, and for a second, the world seemed to pause—but only for a second.

The First Baker launched himself forward again, muscles rippling, his entire massive body flexing as he threw another devastating punch.

BOOM!

Alex didn’t dodge. He met the attack head-on, again and again. Their fists collided like a meteor strike, the sheer impact sending out a visible shockwave that distorted the air between them. The bridge shuddered violently, spiderweb cracks splintering outward beneath their feet. Below, the river convulsed, waves rippling outward from the sheer force of their blows.

One punch. Another. Another.

Each hit exploded like a cannon blast, sending bursts of displaced air screaming across the battlefield. Cars rocked from the force, their windows shattering, their alarms blaring in protest. The entire bridge groaned, straining under the sheer physics-defying destruction. The First Baker grinned, his strength still surging, his power feeding on the panic as more and more people dove out of their cars and ran for their lives. Alex stood tall. His body flickered, a golden air igniting around him, flaring to life just before each colossal blow connected. The force was enough to send him skidding back, his boots grinding against the fractured pavement, but he never fell.

The Baker snarled, frustration creeping into his expression. His power was at its peak—more than a hundred people's worth of raw, untamed strength pumped through his veins.

He should be winning.

"You should be breaking," the Baker growled.

"Yeah, well," Alex cracked his neck, stepping forward, unshaken. "You should’ve brought more."

“Alex, end it fast! We need to leave!” I yelled from the sideline, eyes flickering between the incoming sirens.

“On it.”

The Baker lunged again—but this time, Alex didn’t just block. He caught the Baker’s entire fist mid-swing. The golden air of his invincibility flared, the sheer impact dispersing like a shockwave, and with one fluid motion, Alex twisted the Baker’s arm, yanked him off his feet, and slammed him down with enough force to send a crater through the bridge. The Baker coughed, blood speckling his lips, his massive body trembling from the sheer brutality of the impact. But instead of fear, his expression twisted into something worse. Delight.

"You're good," he admitted, his voice lower now, more guttural, more monstrous. He pushed himself up on shaking arms, but there was a mad glint in his eyes.

Then, he grinned, blood dripping from his teeth. "But let’s see if you hold up against—this!"

With a roar, he slammed both fists into the ground. A massive chunk of concrete—several tons of reinforced steel and stone launched into the air as if gravity had momentarily stopped existing.

The Baker punched it. The air howled as the gigantic slab of bridge hurtled toward Alex like a meteor

Alex let it crash head on.

BOOM!

Shatter!

The instant the bridge chunk collided with Alex’s fists, it didn’t just break—it seemed to vaporize. The impact exploded outward, stones and debris rippling across the area like bullets, damaging nearby by cars as few people far too close to watch the fight escaped for their lives. Meanwhile, Alex's air of invincibility surged through the air like a detonating star. The Baker coughed, stumbling backward, blinking through the bullet like debris as he realized. He had thrown everything at Alex. And Alex was still standing. Alex moved. Faster than before. Faster than the Baker could react. Before the First Baker could even blink, Alex was already in front of him. And then, with one devastating punch, Alex drove his fist straight into the Baker's chest.

BOOM.

The First Baker’s entire body lifted off the ground, a second shockwave erupting outward

Meanwhile, across the battlefield, I spotted Jade angrily dragging the Third Baker across the pavement. It was brutal. His body scraped against the rough road, his legs twitching weakly, leaving a smeared trail of blood behind them. Both of his hands were gone, blasted by his own gadgets detonating in his hands, and his face—well. Let’s just say if I didn’t know who he was before the fight, I sure as hell wouldn’t recognize him now. I slowed my pace, narrowing my eyes. What’s she so pissed about? She’d won, hadn’t she?

Then, as I got closer, I saw it. Tiny specks of blood.

Not just anywhere. On her dress. Her off-white, perfectly fitted, expensive-looking dress.

Ah. It clicked instantly.

Before I could say a word, she threw the unconscious Baker at my feet, like a discarded sack of garbage. I looked down at his ruined, barely breathing form. Then back up at her. Her silver eyes still blazed with cold fury, her jaw set tight, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Then, in a perfectly flat tone, she said: “He ruined my dress.”

As if that alone explained the sheer level of violence she had just inflicted upon his very existence. I opened my mouth, then closed it. Because, honestly?

It did explain it. Jade gestured to herself, her expression bordering on insulted disbelief.

"Do you know how hard it is to find something that fits right when you follow my standards of perfection?"

There was genuine offense in her voice. As if the Third Baker’s biggest crime wasn’t being a villain, or trying to kill us three times in a row, capturing hundreds of civilians and experimenting on them, creating monsters, but getting his filthy, inferior blood on her perfectly curated outfit.

Behind us, Alex and the First Baker's fight continued to shake the bridge. Another particularly vicious impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air, but Jade didn't even flinch. She just kept staring at the bloodstains spreading across the pristine fabric.

Not to anger her further. And, without missing a beat, I deadpanned: "Well. He deserved it."

Jade huffed, brushing dust off. "Damn right, he did."

Then her lips curled up in beam of sweat smile, "You still understands me the most."

I looked away, not wanting to laugh. Yet, the Second Baker gurgled something unintelligible through what remained of his shattered face, his breath coming out wet and uneven.

Jade’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "I wouldn’t," she advised coolly. "The odds of you surviving any more backtalk are astronomically low right now."

I ignored her complaints and instead, kicked him unconscious. His body went limp instantly, finally shutting up. Then, without a second thought, I grabbed him by his feet and started dragging him toward Henry’s car. Henry was going to cry when he saw the bloodstains, but honestly? We needed these idiots alive. He could get over it. As I was shoving the Third Baker into the trunk, Henry dragged the Second Baker over. His situation was comparatively better—no missing limbs, just a broken nose, a few cracked ribs, and the humiliation of losing.

Henry hesitated for a second, staring at the blood already seeping into the fabric of his trunk’s interior. His eye twitched. But instead of complaining, he took a deep, suffering sigh and shoved the Second Baker on top of the Third, slamming the trunk shut with finality.

A brief silence passed.

The First Baker screamed resonated throughout the surroundings.

A sound of pure agony.

I turned just in time to see his arm twisting at an unnatural angle, bones snapping like dry twigs from the recoil of Alex’s final hit. His entire body hurled backward, momentum unstoppable. He crashed through one car. Then another. Then a third, the metal crumpling inward like aluminum foil beneath his sheer weight.

He slammed into the bridge railing. The metal gave way instantly, snapping like brittle wood. For a split second, the Baker hung in midair—his body twisting, gravity already claiming him.

Then, with one final, guttural yell, he fell.

Down, spiraling through the air like a broken comet, into the roaring waters below.

The splash was enormous, sending a wave cascading outward, swallowing the spot where he had disappeared. The current churned violently, but no body surfaced.

Alex exhaled slowly, his aura of invincibility flickering once more before fading. He rolled his shoulders, flexing his fingers, his knuckles raw and red—but he was fine.

Because of course he was.

He turned and walked toward the edge of the bridge, peering over.

Jade and Henry had already dashed forward, scanning the dark, churning water below.

A tense silence settled over the bridge, interrupted only by the distant wail of sirens and the choppy waves below.

Henry frowned. “Is he alive?”

Jade tutted, arms crossed as she assessed the situation.

Then, completely serious, she said, “I can’t swim in this dress.”

A moment of silence.

Alex huffed out a laugh. "Noted. We won’t throw any more supervillains off bridges unless you're wearing something waterproof."

Jade agreed with him, "At least someone here is thinking ahead."

I had come to realize that her senses of sarcasm were very bad.

Henry groaned, rubbing his temples. “Can we focus? I need to know if we have a loose end that’s about to come crawling out of the water like a horror movie.”

I squinted down at the churning blackness below. The First Baker had taken one hell of a hit. His arm was probably completely shattered, if not his entire ribcage. He had plummeted at least sixty feet into a raging current at night. The Likeness above the water was also very calm, so I believed he must have either swam away fast, or taken by the water currents.

The odds weren’t entirely in our favor. He'd live to see the another day.

But.

“I don’t see a body,” I admitted. “Which means we should probably assume he’s not dead.”

Henry let out a muffled, frustrated scream into his hands.

Alex grinned. "Cheer up. If he survived, at least we get to fight him again. And I like punching him."

Henry just turned on his heel and walked back toward the car, muttering something about needing a raise and better friends.

Jade sighed, glancing at the water one last time before following. “If he survived,” she said casually, “He's already too broken to be fixed in a few days. So, really? we already won.”

“So,” Then Alex drawled, his grin lazy, “anyone else wanna fight, or are we done here?”

The answer didn’t come from our enemies—most of whom were either unconscious, broken, or stuffed into Henry’s bloodstained trunk. Instead, it came from the distant wail of sirens. Flashing red and blue lights flickered against the ruined bridge, illuminating the cracks in the pavement, the crumpled vehicles, and the very obvious signs of an illegal superpowered brawl.

Our fight had barely gone more then five minutes. The superhero teams were arriving.

I sighed, already turning on my heel. “Time to go.”

Jade let out a dramatic sigh, “We never get to enjoy these moments, do we?”

“Maybe next time,” Alex smirked, "Assuming Henry doesn't die from stress before then."