What was supposed to be just one day of rest and relaxation turned quickly into three whole days of absolutely—and quite literally—nothing. It happened quickly, long before Ayda even really knew what was going on. The moments strung together into one mostly incoherent mass. The only thing she really could gleam was it started on a Wednesday, but what exactly happened and when was a big blur.

For three days, Ayda sat on her laurels. For three days, she occupied her time with everything except crime fighting. She talked with friends, payed stupid video games, watched television, even did homework, pretty much all of the stuff she normally spared no conscious for. Now they fought for real estate inside her cranium.

It felt kind of good, not having a care in the world. These things were mundane, even a little boring at times, but it was a boredom she welcomed with open arms. For a short span she felt normal, like just another seventeen-year-old American girl living a life of school, friends, and fun.

But it was weird. By the end of the second day, an inescapable scratching formed in the back of her mind, a constant nag she couldn't quite pinpoint. She'd relaxed for far too long, remained idle for a greater span than she had in what at least felt like a very long time. In the several weeks since taking up the mantle of vigilante, her brain had became used to the stress of fighting the Triad day in and day out. Without that source of stimulus, she didn't know what to do with herself.

It had become a part of her, an inescapable side of her personality. Almost like a second skin, this persona clung to the teenager with a grip impossible to break from. She was the vigilante, and the vigilante was her. They were the same person, expressed through radically different means. How could one exist without the other? What was she supposed to do with herself?

Through all of that, though, she remained calm. A lack of stress, while strange, was also refreshing. Ayda thought with a level of clarity she'd not experienced in a very long time. She was relaxed and completely calm. Her mind and body made the necessary adjustment almost immediately, a reallocation of mental resources to things other than actual work. Distantly, Ayda realized this was how a weekend felt. It had been so long since her last extended period of time off, she'd forgotten.

When the sun rose on the fourth day, Ayda had already decided this would be her entrance back into the fray, her return to form. Instead of dread or dissatisfaction at returning to work, she felt anxious. For how refreshing her little break was, its appeal wore thin by the end. The energy in her young body yearned to get back out there and fight the good fight once more.

Ayda couldn't help but wonder, then, why she found herself walking the halls of the Belmont International Research and Development labs, as opposed to resting, or training, or literally anything else. She strode a pace behind Elliot, dressed in his white lab coat and a green sweater he looked absolutely ridiculous in. "Preppy" was not his style.

The silence between them was... uncomfortable. Elliot had a generally excited air about him. He didn't show it, of course, but the poor man was about to burst. He gave off an aura almost disturbing in its intensity. Ayda couldn't stand it.

"So, why am I here?" She asked as the two of them walked the narrow metal hallway.

"I'm still not telling you," replied her friend. "It's a surprise."

Ayda's shoulders sagged. "Come on, El. You know I hate surprises."

"You'll like this one, trust me." Elliot did his best to sound reassuring, but the current atmosphere made him sound almost pretentious, like he lorded some grand knowledge just out of her reach. In a way he technically did, which only annoyed Ayda further.

That was probably about the forth or fifth time she'd asked. In her experience, most people broke down around that number of questions and either gave her whatever information she wanted, or dropped a hint which allowed her to figure it out. Admittedly, though, most of that experience came from her time interrogating thugs. Elliot was far smarter than to fall for her petty schemes. She also didn't have a show of force helping to loosen is tongue. So, for the time being, the teenager dropped the subject.

The pair walked on for a few minutes more, the sound of footsteps the only accompaniment to their travel. Ayda divined long ago where the journey would end. This particular corridor provided access to many portions of the research facility, but the only time Ayda ever used it—especially if actual employees were involved—was to enter the testing chamber. It was the obvious destination.

This little nugget of knowledge made her just the slightest bit anxious. Necessity provided the only logical reason why Elliot would bother presenting his surprise all the way out here, and especially in such a secure room. What could he possible have to show her which required such precaution? Part of her didn't want to know, but a much larger partition needed to find out.

After an appropriate amount of time, the two stopped before what appeared to be a simple dead-end wall. Elliot did the honors of opening it up. He walked over to it and slid up a hidden panel in the wall immediately to its right. Swift fingers entered a lengthy series of numbers, a sequence Ayda idly recited to herself. She'd keyed it enough times herself to know that code better than her own birthday, which was... sometime in summer? Ayda hadn't thought about her birthday since, well, the last time it came.

The moment Elliot pressed the final button, the dead-end before them parted, a quick separation right down the middle. It gave way to a perfectly circular, white padded room. Pillowy squares adorned the rounded walls. Thick foam covered the ground. It felt like densely packed sand beneath her feet as she followed Elliot inside.

Whenever Ayda entered this space, it usually contained some sort of sciencey poppycock, machines and electronic devices she couldn't even begin to understand. These things were used to measure her abilities. She'd become used to them. So, to enter and only see a small metal table caught her off guard.

An object lay upon the table, clearly also made of metal and about a foot long. It was cylindrical in nature. Polished to a silvery shine, it reflected the artificial overhead lights in a similar fashion to a fun house mirror. It cast no glare, but instead showed a greatly distorted image of the ceiling.

Over the years, Ayda had become quite accustomed to having mostly free reign over this room. Since tests within it were conducted completely and without compromise on her terms, she had the final say on any and all equipment and procedures. She was used to inspecting everything without question nor challenge. This instance was no different. The girl walked up to the object and took it in her hand, no hesitation to be had.

She expected a solid metal cylinder, but upon handling it found this was not the case. Just by the weight alone, this thing was quite clearly a hollow yet sturdy construction. Not too heavy to lift, it bore a solid weight upon her palm, more than she'd expect for something so small.

Now in closer proximity, she could see this was not a single piece. Rather, a quartet of ringed scallops were carved out of each end, very much like a telescoping police baton. Flat metal disks capped off either side. Ayda turned it around in her hand, trying to make heads or tails of it. While she did, Elliot sheepishly held out a hand to her.

"I was hoping you wouldn't do that," he said in reference to to how she just charged right in.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"What is this thing, El?" She asked, completely ignoring him.

"Your surprise," answered the scientist simply. "I wanted to present it to you, like a gift. Maybe I should've wrapped it?" He added offhandedly.

"Alright..." Ayda trailed off. "So, then, what is is?" Repeated the girl.

"Well, remember how you were complaining that your staff kept getting stuck on the walls in the meth lab?" Elliot began, drawing out his syllables in a sly way.

"Yeah..." Ayda gave him a sidelong glance, not sure where he was going with this.

"And how you always say how difficult it is to ride your bike with a metal pole hanging off the side?" Continued Elliot in the same tone as previous.

"Yeah, I feel like I'm always pulling to the left." Just the mention of this topic was enough to irritate the teenager.

"Well, I took it upon myself to fix all of those problems, and made you that," Elliot pointed to the little rod in her hand for emphasis.

"Really?" Ayda looked down at the thing with renewed interest. "What does it do?"

"It's a collapsible staff!" Exclaimed Elliot, unable to contain his joy any longer.

"Seriously? No way!" Ayda finally joined in his excitement. "So, what, do I just pull on the ends?" She began fiddling with one of the disks, twisting and pulling on it in a vain attempt to extend a side.

"No, even better," clarified Elliot. The girl stopped to look up at him. "I was hoping you could use your powers to blast the sides in and out. That's what the disks on the ends are for."

"Oh, okay. That makes sense." Almost instinctively, Ayda held it in a ready position. She pivoted a quarter turn and lowered it to her hip line. "So, does it work?"

"I don't really know. I know the pieces slide pretty easily, but I can't really test it without you," admitted Elliot.

"Alright, I can do that," she said with a smirk. "Stand back."

Before she even gave the order, Elliot had stepped far out of the way. She didn't have to tell him twice. At this point, he knew better than to be anywhere near her explosions, even tiny, localized ones like these would likely end up.

Ayda focused for a split-second. Power flowed through her veins. The world shifted into focus, an instantaneous change. The feeling of pure life coursed warm and firm under her skin, and she distantly wondered why she ever chose to spend any moment of her life away from these sensations. The staff glowed purple at her touch as energy rushed into it. The connection was strong. This was, by an enormous margin, the most pure metal she'd ever channeled into.

The task required little in the way of effort. Ayda's aim was pinpoint, accurate down to the millimeter, not that it necessarily needed to be. The girl let loose what she assumed was an appropriately sized blast, directly under the disk pointed away from herself. In one movement, the four links slid outward, extending with a pointed click. A mechanism inside locked them in place. A smile stretched across her face as she repeated the same motion on the other end with an exactly similar result.

At full extension the weapon was the same length as her old staff, although noticeably heavier. There was a distinct taper on either side, necessary for the telescoping action. With both hands, Ayda gave it a sturdy shake. The points flexed and bent, snapping around their structural base just like a single, contiguous piece would.

Elliot said she could both extend and collapse the sections with blasts. To test the theory, Ayda produced blasts on the opposite ends of the disks, this time simultaneously for the pair. A quick clink of sliding metal accompanied their shrinking form, back down to the little, compact form. One more time the girl produced blasts, and once again she held a full, five foot implement of war.

For an even further test—and to get quality assurance out of the way right then—she struck with a few practice swings, spinning it multiple times as she lashed out just to see how it performed in fluid motion. A few of the strikes were accentuated by small explosions which echoed off the ceiling, but not the soft walls. She came to an abrupt stop and held the thing horizontally in a loose grip in front of her, expression a mix of awe and pure delight.

"This is amazing," she breathed. "Thank you so much, El!"

Without a moment's hesitation—and still holding the staff in one hand—she threw her arms around him, a motion which he returned in kind. The embrace was brief, little more than a show of gratitude. Distantly, Ayda was aware this was the second time in less than a week she'd hugged him. These things became more frequent by the day. That was good, right? She had nothing to hide from him, especially after all they'd been through. Elliot deserved a hug every now and then.

After a second, she released her hold on him. The two individuals took tiny steps away from each other to stand at a more appropriate distance for conversation. Ayda peered back down at the treasure in her hand. It's construction marveled her to no end. She saw Elliot smile out of the corner of her eye, a knowing twitch of his lips.

"You haven't even seen the best part, yet," he said. "Twist it." At this order, Ayda gave him a curious glance. He gestured toward the object. "Go on, twist and pull."

The movements Ayda made were slow and puzzled. What viable goal would twisting a piece of solid metal achieve? Still, the girl did as she was told, trusting Elliot had a good reason. She adjusted her grip toward the center of the thing. Wrenching motions with each hand in opposite directions manipulated the thing. It offered some resistance, but to her great surprise, it rotated at the perfect half-point. One spun up, and the other spun down in tandem to the control of their respective fists.

Ayda stared down at it for a short moment before remembering the second part of the instructions. She pulled them apart. The two halves tore asunder, leaving her with a shorter metal rod in each hand, pointing opposite directions in a reverse grip. A confused interlude immediately was broken by a joyous grin.

"That is so fucking cool," Ayda said.

Simultaneously, she flipped the dual rods into orthodox grips, points facing upward toward the ceiling. At the same time, Ayda fell into a fighting stance. Her right stick went just slightly above her head, while the other remained parallel with her hip. Both menaced upon a shared focal point, her hypothetical enemy's heart.

In this stance she remained for a breath, but dropped it before long. The weapons fell to her sides. She needn't test them. Since they were part of the same whole, their structural integrity and performance would be roughly the same as in staff form. Any further trials, while fun, only wasted her time with redundancy.

"Now you don't have to worry about fighting in close quarters," Elliot said.

"Yeah, I think you just solved all of my problems," agreed Ayda. "I'm assuming I just put them back together and twist the opposite direction to go back to the staff?"

"Yep," Elliot nodded. "If you look closely at the ends, you'll see a bunch of little metal tabs. Those interlock so it won't come apart when you're fighting, unless you want it to."

Ayda held one of the rods to her face. Indeed, just as Elliot claimed, each one had a series of metal teeth on thinner offset columns. These slotted right into little hollowed out portions on the opposite sticks. When spun together, the teeth interlocked much like the zipper on a coat. Ayda put the weapon back together and gave it a few hardy tugs, just to test the rigidity of it. It felt just like a single piece of metal, which was exactly what she wanted.

It was perfect, everything she never knew she ever wanted. This one little tool really would solve all of her problems. No more avoiding alleyways or leaving it behind whenever venturing inside. She could even bring it to school, just in case of emergencies. It was an elegant weapon, a fine design by a master craftsman, which raised a question she hadn't considered until just then.

"When did you even have time to do this," she asked of Elliot, still opting to look at her new toy instead of him.

"Believe it or not, I convinced Bernard to let me work on it on company time." Elliot stood a little straighter when saying this.

"Seriously?" Ayda now diverted her attention to him with a raised eyebrow. "How'd you swing that?"

"I don't really know," he admitted with an awkward rub of his nape, "something to the effect of 'better equipment will make our tests more efficient.' I didn't think he'd actually go for it."

"But we haven't tested in weeks," countered Ayda.

"I know," Elliot said. "I didn't argue with him."

"Good thing," Ayda said. "I wouldn't have this, if you did."

"Yeah," Elliot agreed. "Metallurgy isn't really my forte, but I think it came out alright."

"Shut up, it's perfect."

"Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

At this point, Ayda could feel the conversation dying down. By the sudden change in atmosphere around Elliot, he felt it as well. It was time to leave, to move on to bigger and better things, to the rest of their respective days.

"I can't wait to crack some skulls with this bad boy," she said, pushing past him toward the exit. He pivoted around and fell in behind her.

"Maybe you could just knock them out instead?" He suggested a more controlled solution. "Though, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to see how it performs."

"Then it's a good thing I've already scheduled a bust tonight," Ayda said as the two of them exited the room. Elliot stopped to quickly close the door, and the girl lingered in wait for him. When he was done, they resumed their trek out of the building proper.

He was, perhaps, more excited than she was to test it out. Do what you love, and love what you do, right? It was just a small thing, but this little weapon—and the versatility it provided—had the potential to completely change the game. Now Ayda could go anywhere and do anything unhindered by the implements she chose to wield. Criminals no longer had anywhere to hide.