Juniper soared through acrid skies, lungs heavy under the tang of the smoke. Beneath fires churning block to block, plumes of smog rising like a suffocating cloud. Sweat soaked through her clothing, it would be another outfit ruined due to cape nonsense, she’d have to retake Kanako’s offer to go shopping after this.

If Kanako still wanted to see her.

She slowed down, hovering above a blackened rooftop, and her phone pulled out. Fingers trembling as she typed to her brother.

[Juniper: The city is in chaos, I’m gonna see where I can help. If anything happens, let me know. I’ll come running.]

Her fingers hesitated over the send button. What if she couldn’t, what if she was caught up? What if she had died? She pressed it anyway, chest heavy as the message disappeared across the net.

Her thoughts shifted to Effy. The school was far from the city center, Thank whatever God was out there. There were also active duty capes assigned to most schools. It should have been enough to comfort her aching heart.

It should have been. Yet it wasn't

I need to find out for myself.

She doubted they’d take kindly to an unknown cape showing up at a School after being spotted fighting fires.

Below her, the inner city was like a war zone. Every few minutes, an explosion occurred or a distant screaming clawed at her ears. For once in a long time [Enhanced hearing] seemed more like a curse.

Panic was everywhere as far as the eye could see between burning cards and exploding windows, she wager it would only take a day’s worth of escalation before martial law was imposed. Then everyone will have a gun pointed at them.

She pushed forward. The sound of the gunshots cracked again, much clearer. The bullets were timed, precise, and deliberate. She followed like a hound, dreading the destination. Every nerve told her to turn heel and run, and yet, she moved until she spotted the point of origin.

A car lay turned over, flames erupting from its engines. Behind an opposing vehicle crouched a man, his face obscured by a mask and a cap. His hands shook as he fired a pistol wildly at two approaching figures advancing on him with flame throwers, their faces hidden away by their helmets.

“Damn it,” she muttered to herself. The guy with the cap went wild, blind fire behind the car, bullets ricocheting off the pavement. The pyromaniacs advanced slowly, cornering him like a desperate animal.

She dove. Heading straight for the one in the rear, her gravitational punch connected with the assailant's chest the impact sending him hurtling away. The other pyro turned toward her, eyes narrowed as he swung his weapon towards her. The flamethrower’s muzzle hissed and flames escaped, heating radiating as it spread.

She had a flicker of a moment to brace herself. Her shield flared to life and she slowly moved backwards. Would the shield hold? She doubted it.

Three gunshots rang out, louder and sharper than everything around them.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

The second pyromaniac fell to the ground blood pooling from his chest.

Before she could do anything, he moved past her. He was fast–inhumanly so. He shoved her aside with enough force to send her rolling away a couple of meters. She hit the ground dazed. She watched as he closed the distance in a couple of seconds, gunning the pyro down, and fired a shot point blank at the skull of the man.

She went still.

“What the hell,” she whispered, nerves shot. Was that even legal?

[Whoa, Jun! Did you see that? Tomato paste everywhere! Gross, but also kinda cool, right? Who’s cleaning that up?]

She ignored Sys-chan’s complete detachment, she didn’t have time to argue about human morality to her. Her focus snapped on the operative as she moved the gun towards her.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Not one fucking muscle,” he barked, threatening her.

She froze in place. His face was unreadable, and his eyes cold and devoid of anything.

“I just—”

“Shut up. I ask the questions.” His voice cut like a blade. “Cape name and registration number.”

Juniper raised her hands, her body shaking.

“I’m supposed to register tomorrow. I’m with Operation Bell Brigade.”

The operative scoffed, lowering his weapon slightly. “Unregistered. Young. Playing hero.” Contempt in his voice.

Behind her, the faint rustle inside a car caught her attention. She turned her head, to see a preteen girl peek out from the backseat. Eyes wide and terrified as hers.

“Who’s that?” Juniper asked, her voice trembling.

The operative stepped closer. “None of your business,” he snapped at her, his composure did waver, however. His breathing accelerated, hand clutching his forehead as if steadying himself.

She didn’t press, but she was spooked. Something about him was completely unstable. The tag on his cap said SCRA, but was he?

How to get out of this?

“She’s a relative, under my protection, I’m…waiting for an ambulance,” he said. Words spiked with something she couldn’t hint at. Guilt? Frustration?

She kept silent, eyes darting left to right between the man and the girl. How does she solve this, the situation seems like a powder keg waiting to explode.

How?

She held her hands, palms open, then stood up. The man circled her like a predator sizing up prey. He was moving deliberately and sharply, yet his pacing was erratic like a drug abuser. The grip on his pistol was way too tight. No doubt he had some screws loose, but she couldn’t stay here like a hostage.

“I’m not a villain,” she said carefully, keeping her voice calm. “You should know that. I’m just trying to help where I can.”

“Do you know agency capes get reprimanded if they fight without a uniform, You're intentionally skirting the law, Miss OBB.” he snapped his neck like a mad turtle. “Also I never asked for your fucking help.”

His words sent a chill down her spine, it was laced with venom. He started moving around again, spinning his pistol like a boy would spin a toy. The way he handled the weapon didn’t match what was going on in his head. He sighed. Then glanced at the freaked-out girl in the car.

“I saw you fly? Did you come outta the air? He asked though it was rhetorical.

Juniper nodded, not knowing where this conversation was going.

“Very good.” His pace quickened, she barely had time to react, the barrel of the gun was lined up under her chin. He leaned in real close, really close. Growling like a wild dog. “Take to the hospital. And listen very carefully. Touch her, hurt her, or even use her. I will find you and I will kill you.”

Thunder flashed in her heart, her instinct told her to run or fight, and she forced herself to stay calm. Desensitizing herself. Swallowing as the cold steel of the barrel clicked.

“I understand, sir,” she said quietly. Obedient without emotion. Her voice trembled, and he met his gaze. “I’ll do as you ask.”

His hand lingered for a moment then he pulled the gun away, and moved back. The tension in the air is still thick. He walked over to the car, easing himself, hand running down his face. He tapped against the hood, then walked over to the door.

“Amber,” he said with softest, gentlest voice.

The girl peeked out, her eyes full of tears looking at Juniper and the man.

“Yes, uncle?”

“This nice lady’s going to take you to the hospital. Get those burns checked out okay? Then I’ll come to fetch you.” he handed her an old-school cellphone. “Call me when they’ve patched you up I’ll come fetch you.”

She nodded, she moved awkwardly and stiffly. She winced as she tried to move out of the car, her legs barely holding her together. Juniper caught sight of the burns on her legs and arms-charred patches of skin.

[Poor girl] sys-chan said. [You should give her a hug Juniper in my place.]

I’d rather not with her crazy uncle around.

Juniper crouched down in front of the girl, gesturing to her to climb on her back. Amber hesitated, glancing at her uncle for permission, before obeying. She weighed lighter than she should have been, like she was anorexic except her physical body weight seemed just fine.

[Don’t even speculate, she’s probably a dormant cape. Or uncle wacko’s got some family secret]

The operative put his pistol away, fingers itching. Probably to shoot someone. You never told me your name, cape girl.”

“Mimicry,” she said after thinking. “Or Ms. Mimic it’s work in progress.

“What a stupid fucking cape name.” he put his fingers on his lips. “Your real name, don’t worry I won’t tell. Name for name.”

After pondering. “It’s–no, I don’t trust you,” she said shaking her head.

“Fair enough, now get lost!”

This guy’s a few screws short of a fully functional brain, huh?] Sys-chan quipped in her usual overly cheery tone. [Anyway, all aboard the Pinewell Express! JUUUN!!! JUUUN!!! JUUUN!!!]

She couldn’t help it. She giggled. It was a nervous but unintentional laugh, it slipped, Sys-chan was too random sometimes. It worked off the stress.

Uncle’s face twisted, irritated, eyes narrow. “What so fucking funny?”

“Nothing,” she lied, the laugh just barely eased her.

Amber, clutched tightly. “I’m ready, Ms.”

Juniper adjusted her body, spreading her arms to stabilize the flying. She gave the man a glance. He stared at her like she was a stray animal with rabies, his fingers twinkling back to playing with the gun.

“I’ll get her there safely,” Juniper promised.

He didn’t respond just watched her lift into the sky.

She was going to report him–to her boss at least. She didn’t fancy being held at gunpoint.

Mid-air, she stared over her shoulder. Breathing a sigh of relief.

“Are you okay Amber?”

“I’m fine. Ms. Mimicry”

"Hmmm." She really gotta choose her name soon.