Beneath the luminous full moon, restless Duppy shadows drifted between the swaying tree line as old Bedford John trudged wearily through the overgrown field. The aging farmer wiped sweat from his wrinkled brow while scanning the expanse of his crop in dismay.

"Cho rhaatid!" he cursed aloud.

This was the third outbreak this season. And each time the parasitic infestation worsened, warping more stalks into hideous bioluminescent mutations that throbbed ominously with eerie Coco energies. Already entire sections glowed with organic neon hues, the vines and tubers were swelling freakishly.

"Babylon system ah poison the earth... Nasty lab chemicals wash out inna the river, now whole heap ah crop ah turn inna freakish abomination," Bedford lamented aloud. He had reported the ecological issue multiple times to no avail. Government officials seemed ominously disinterested.

Slash! Slash!

Hacking angrily with his machete at a neon-tainted section of earth yams, the old man unearthed something that made his blood turn to ice. There, curled inside the split tuber, spun a wriggling neon larvae the size of his fist. It sported gnashing mandibles and a dozen tiny eyes that fixated hungrily upon him with preternatural awareness.

"Bumboclaat!" Bedford exclaimed, staggering backwards. In over forty years farming this soil, no earthly crops produced such hellish spawn! Furthermore, eerie instinct warned not to let the unnatural worms bite. Who knew what further perversions might spread? The aghast farmer turned and fled his fields, vowing to make one final appeal before abandoning hope of government aid.

***

Many miles away within the fortified stronghold of the Jamaica Hero Association, a high-level round table meeting was underway. Primary topic? Addressing the relentless havoc ignited across the island by hordes of citizens turned monstrous by black market enhancement drugs.

Around the semi-circular conference table sat imposing veteran heroes, Crystal Atom, Ras Nine, Tomato Tart, Aizo, Silverback and his hot-headed partner Juju. Several seats were occupied by high-ranking Anti-Villain agents as well, including the strict disciplinarian Sergeant Moss.

At the head of the table hovered dozens of shimmering sapphire crystals orbiting the focusing vision of Crystal Atom, the current overseer of the JHA. Each unique gem held an all-seeing magical eye that enabled Mr Atom to remotely view key locations across Jamaica simultaneously.

Three months had passed since the devastating attack on Seacrest High School by the combined forces of Lord Skull and his Toxic Trio. In the aftermath, over a thousand civilians had been infected by vials of the Trio's enhancement pills known as Loki-7. The unfortunate victims had been twisted into hyper aggressive fluorescent mutants the media dubbed Neon Punksters. And their chaos was spreading.

Crystal Atom stroked his trim beard pensively as his arteries pulsated in his bald head. "As you can see, brethren, the threat escalates rapidly, yes. Neon Punkster gangs grow bolder, attacking infrastructure and citizens at random across several parishes. Their power trip knows no conscience. Tonight I track pockets congregating suspiciously near the Tungscent bridge in southern Portland.”

The gathered heroes studied the scenes with grave focus. Through Crystal Atom's remote viewing lens, they observed at least twelve freakishly bulked mutants converging near the highway bridge support columns. The creatures' physiques bulged with tumours of sinew and pulsating neon veins that fuelled their drug-warped bodies and minds with psychotic energy. Muscles rippled beneath the torn rags they wore as clothing, their faces and skulls distended by the Runik Blue compound. Truly walking nightmares.

"If these beasts succeed in compromising infrastructure integrity, lives will be jeopardized along with vital transport between parishes. We must respond swiftly,” Crystal Atom stated firmly. Around the table heads nodded, already calculating strategic countermeasures. The Neon Punkster scourge plaguing innocent communities had to end!

Sergeant Moss was first to offer his perspective. "The longer we react without permanent solutions, the faster their mutant forces strengthen from addicts turned. I propose a joint Omega Task Force to target suppliers and the toxic chemists who are working for Lord Skull to craft the narcotic compounds powering this network chaos..."

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His analytical observations suddenly paused due to unexpected movement on the glowing viewer orb that drew surprised stares from the chamber. There beneath the endangered bridge, a lone vulpine shapeshifter had appeared to challenge the congregation of volatile mutants!

"Zounds, is that Cocoa Fox from Seacrest High?" Tomato Tart exclaimed in dismay upon recognizing the young hero’s Seedling Coco badge. " Who gave her authorization to flex her powers in public. Foolish pup thinks herself some lone gunslinger!"

The other heroes watched tensely as onscreen, the fiery three-tailed heroine assumed combat stance before the dozen hulking Neon Punksters converging upon her with mayhem glowing in their crazed eyes.

"I remember seeing her that time when Lord Skull attacked. What's that impulsive upstart playing at this hour? She hasn’t even graduated out of her diapers as yet," groused Silverback, pounding the table impatiently. His brazen attitude earned a scolding nudge from his reserved yet deadly partner, Juju.

"Have care how you judge, brother. Recall she helped shield many during the school invasion calamity."

Nonetheless, the other senior heroes silently worried for Cocoa Fox's safety given the daunting odds she now faced.

Crystal Atom raised a halting hand which expanded the invisible crystal shards; his powers granted extended perception into the scene. "Let us allow this unfolding scene to relate crucial intel. If the tide shifts negatively, intercession remains an option..."

Thud!

“Whew, I’ve been itching for some payback.”

Beneath the bridge support columns, Cocoa Fox rolled her neck to release tension as the pack of freakish Neon Punksters fanned out, their bulging forms were rippling with chaotic energy. She counted at least twelve threats, each grossly distorted by wretched side effects of the luminosity drug Loki-7. Their intelligence was likely reduced to primal violence and stimulation seeking.

"Yuh ugly mutants betta stand down before mi mash yuh up!" Cocoa Fox shouted fiercely, igniting foxfire along her three lashing tails. She had tracked this group for days across Portland parish after reports of attacks on remote villages. Their boldness was escalating dangerously. Now it was time to put down these savage beasts for good!

The pack of mutants answered with frenzied roars and caterwauls, their brain functions corroded by the Runik Blue chemicals burning through their nervous systems. The foremost punk - a burly beast with distended spine quills like a deranged porcupine - attempted broken speech between drooling and convulsions.

"G-girl no match... f-for mighty Alpha Clan... We crush fox-girl, then wreck bridge!" His words slurred from a tongue split snake-like down the middle. Behind him, his fellow addicts hooted and thrashed their weapons - scavenged pipes, wooden clubs wrapped in barbed wire, street signs torn from the soil. Their upper bodies and limbs bulged freakishly with tumours of muscle and pulsating neon veins. Clearly the Loki-7 narcotic had progressed their mutations to utterly inhuman proportions.

Cocoa Fox merely snorted disdainfully through her vulpine snout. "Brainless neon freaks. I'll merk every last one 'pon the spot!" With that she pounced forward emitting a piercing vulpine shriek directly at the foremost porcupine punk.

Boom!

Startled by her swift assault, the quilled mutant swung his spiked club frantically. However, Cocoa Fox spun with graceful dexterity just beyond the downstroke of his attack. Lashing out behind her, two of her flaming tails coiled around the brute's thick ankle then emitted a flash pulse of foxfire that incinerated flesh instantly.

“GRAAAH!”

The porcupine beast released an ungodly howl as smoking tendons spilled from his charred leg socket. Toppling face-first into rubble, his cries were muted by concrete debris filling his gaping jaws. One rogue guardian of Portland parish had drawn first blood!

Enraged by their Alpha's embarrassing defeat, the remaining eleven Neon Punksters mobbed forward swinging wildly with their crude weapons. But Cocoa Fox proved even swifter now. Bobbing and dashing between each lumbering blow at superhuman speed, she systematically lashed and burned her assailants with unrelenting castigation.

"Yuh too slow fa mi, neon freaks!" Her taunting yields naught but frenzied pursuit. These fiends fought with zero discipline or strategy, relying solely on their Runik Blue-fuelled brawn and fury. Child's play for her sharpened battle instincts.

Ducking a viciously spiked bat, Cocoa Fox retaliated with a low sweeping foxtail that severed her assailant's Achilles tendon. As the wretch crumpled howling, she silenced him with an axe kick to the skull then snatched away his bat to wield herself. "Thanks for the weapon upgrade, fool!"

Not wasting motion, Cocoa Fox hurled the wooden club into another encroaching punk, caving in his chest brutally before he could swing his length of bicycle chain. Two more beasts rushed her swinging iron pipes. With casual grace, Cocoa Fox backflipped atop one pipe-wielder's shoulders, then drove her burning heels straight through the second attacker's eye sockets before he could adjust his aim. Pivoting lithely, she then snapped the neck of her involuntary mount with a violent twist.

"Four down already, and the rest still clueless!" Laughing recklessly, the vulpine heroine relished proving her warrior grit against these bumbling creatures. She had trained three months towards this, honing savage grace and iron will under the critical coaching of Ms. Daphne herself. Now Cocoa Fox unleashed that disciplined prowess without restraint. None could deny her forces to be reckoned upon Portland parish!

However, despite rapidly thinning their pack, the freakish Neon Punksters refused defeat. Driven by maddened impulses of their Runik Blue corruption, they chose death before dishonour. And one towering mutant yet held a vile ace card waiting to be played.