"Fucking rain,” Kaylah cursed as she made another perilous jump between buildings.

Southern LA’s buildings were noticeably smaller than their northern counterparts. They only reached about ten stories in height and were fairly uniform in that. Meanwhile, northern LA’s towers often reached a height of twenty stories at least and were much more diverse.

Of course, then there were the Megacorp’s skyscrapers that stuck out like sticks shoved into an anthill. The tallest one, Anderson’s Highrise, reached almost seventy stories in high.

It was named after a famous businessman that committed suicide by jumping from its topmost floors and was home to Bullworth Electronics, the creators and sellers of CI’s.

The reason for this dichotomy between north and south harkened back to the months following the Cascadian Catastrophe.

A large portion of the city had slipped into the sea while the rest of the city had been leveled by the quake itself, and the survivors of the catastrophe found themselves homeless.

In an attempt to put a bandage on the city while major infrastructure was repaired, the government pre-fabricated hundreds of cheap housing units. These prefabricated units would be shipped in and assembled on sight like lego bricks, forming the ten-story buildings still found in southern LA. today

They were promised to only be a temporary solution, but as time wore on they became more and more permanent. Roads were paved between them, then were embedded into the ground, walls were knocked down as families started customizing their living spaces. Eventually, they just became regular buildings with shops, apartments, and more.

At least in the south.

Up north, things were a bit different. During the earliest days after the catastrophe, the relief effort had set up their main base in the northern portion of the city, where the easiest point of access was. From there, they would hand out rations and give supplies, causing many to migrate there every day.

Enterprising fellows saw this pattern of migration and started setting up shops around the relief base, selling handcrafted items and trinkets for food. This eventually evolved as the city got back on its feet and northern LA became a place of commerce and trade.

That tradition has continued until the modern-day, with northern LA growing taller and taller as different companies tried to out-compete each other.

But the author digresses.

As Kaylah made another jump, she almost slipped. “Fucking stupid… fucking rain.”

Kaylah had been out making her rounds when it had begun to pour. She’d managed to stop two muggings and taken down a few punks that were trying to rape a woman before the storm hit.

A fairly good night, all things considered.

Slowing down from her sprint to a jog, then from a jog to a walk, Kaylah began to walk laps with her hands on her head. Though her [Enhanced Physicality] meant that she could run a lot further a lot faster now, she still had to take a breather once and awhile.

The crunching of the gravel beneath her feet calmed her mind.

Kaylah actually didn’t feel that cold from the rain but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. She was drenched. Her clothes were sticking to her, panties ridding up, and her hair would be a mess in the morning.

The rain also made for suboptimal fighting conditions.

The wetness made things slippery, meaning Kaylah couldn’t get as much traction as before. Something that was vitally important when going up against criminals with guns.

Kaylah couldn’t actually dodge bullets but she could certainly dodge people’s aim. Especially someone untrained, like most gangbangers. Kaylah didn’t actually know if she was bulletproof or not but she wasn’t raring to find out.

Her appearance was being affected by the storm as well.

While that may seem shallow, Kaylah had a very important reason to maintain her appearance.

Intimidation.

Image was a very important thing. In that split second before a fight began, your image could be that deciding factor on whether there was a fight at all. If you cultivate an image of being an immortal badass, then you will become that immortal badass in the minds of those you face.

That’s why in professional fighting you’ll see fighters taunting each other. They’re trying to belittle and discourage their opponents.

That was something Kaylah had learned from her dad.

She was taking those same principles and applying them to the street. The only difference was that instead of trying to discourage her opponents, Kaylah was trying to terrify them.

But all that was broken if she showed up looking like a drowned rat.

All this, combined with the fact that she had to go to work tomorrow, was Kaylah’s reasoning for heading back early for the night.

Sighing to herself, Kaylah jumped up and down a few times, stretching and warming her body up. Taking a deep breath she faced the next jump but as she took a step back, preparing to launch herself forward, she stopped as her enhanced ears heard a noise from down below.

A small ‘eep’ could be heard before a large splash sounded out.

Growing curious as to who would be out in this rain, Kaylah crept over to the edge of the building and looked below.

A miserable looking woman was laying in a large puddle with a man in a black hoodie laying on top of her.

At first, Kaylah thought she was looking at some sort of rape attempt but after a few moments of observation, it was obvious that that was not the case. The man was quite clearly unconscious and the woman was showing no signs of distress.

That changed almost immediately when the woman suddenly shot up and took off toward a dumpster.

Initially confused as to her actions, Kaylah watched, trying to see what had spooked the woman. The man still wasn’t moving, Kaylah couldn’t hear any gunshots, and she didn’t see anyone in the alley.

Then she saw the burn marks chasing the woman and her blood ran cold.

“Las-gun…” she breathed, her eyes widening.

That was bad.

Las-guns were tightly controlled weapons, and, though they weren’t hard to produce, were almost never seen outside of the military. Early attempts at weapons smuggling and production of Las-guns were met with such violent backlash from official forces and governments that most organized crime refused to touch the things.

They also just weren’t needed in most circumstances. Regular police only really used conventional firearms, which were easily combated with the much more available and less controlled MAG’s. Plus, while some special law enforcement unit’s around the world used Las-gun’s, it was far from common.

Only military, special forces, powerful megacorps, and very powerful criminal enterprises could use Las-gun’s without fear of reprisal. Even then, only the military and special forces could use them in large amounts.

That means that if you see someone with a Las-gun without a uniform on, they’re either part of a very powerful criminal faction or a lunatic.

Either way, you should get away from them as soon as possible.

Just as Kaylah was about to follow that advice, she hesitated. Looking back down, she saw the pitiful sight of that woman scrambling into a dumpster as her life depended on it, which, to be fair, it probably did.

Kaylah heard her curse as she fell in, right before the brick wall behind her was singed by a laser beam. As Kaylah listened to them rummage around in the dumpster, she watched in horrified awe as the shooter seemed to materialize out of the wall. They had been standing so still, that Kaylah’s eye’s had glided right over them.

They prowled forward, like a panther stalking their prey, and as lightning flashed Kaylah finally got a good look at them.

They were covered in a dark red armor that seemed to blend into the darkness around them. It looked almost like a carapace with how it hugged their body. The person themselves was almost completely androgynous, with a strongly built but still slim body. This also wasn’t helped by the fact that they wore a half-dome helmet that removed any sense of humanity.

They were also missing an arm.

It was obvious from how they moved that that was a recent development. They were leaning slightly, trying to accommodate the weight of their left arm without a counterbalance. The slight lurch in their otherwise smooth gate showed that they were possibly in pain still and when the next flash of lightning came, Kaylah could pick out some bits of the armor that were a lighter crimson than the rest.

Blood.

They were injured.

“Well, that changes things…” Kaylah murmured to herself as she considered the situation below.

As she watched the shooter approach the dumpster she could hear the woman rummaging around in, she sighed. “Damn my bleeding heart,” she cursed under her breath as she started scaling her way down the building, her [Enhanced Physicality] making the process much easier than otherwise.

Dropping down in a connecting alley, Kaylah took a deep breath. Rubbing her palm where her father's quote was inscribed, she calmed.

Kaylah struck her fists together, making a metallic sound ring out.

Taking a step, she did it again.

And again.

Each time, she felt stronger, faster, more in control, more… invincible.

When she finally walked around the corner her pulse was steady and her mind focused.

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The shooter had turned and was facing her. They were balanced on the edge of the dumpster with their gun still pointed into it. The man in the black hoodie was still passed out in the puddle.

Kaylah's voice rang out clearly in the tightened alley. "Hello there…" she said, her eyes focusing on the combatant. "Tell me, do you want to experience paradise?"

Thunder roared…

And the shooter wiped their arm around at impossible speeds, aiming their pistol toward Kaylah. Barely ducking out of the way, Kaylah felt the beam brush by her ear. Not giving herself any time to think she dashed at her opponent.

The shooter fired another shot that Kaylah again almost didn't dodge. Rolling out of the way at the last minute, Kaylah growled in annoyance.

If she couldn't close the distance, she couldn't hit them. If she couldn't hit them, she couldn't use her power. If she couldn't use her power, she would lose.

Yet again Kaylah was forced to evade or else be cooked.

Looking around for anything she could use against her adversary, she found nothing. A few pebbles and rocks tore up from the concrete but Kaylah doubted that she could throw those with enough accuracy to hit.

Darting to the side, Kaylah hissed in pain as she was grazed by a laser beam, scorching a small part of her arm and burning her coat.

Kaylah was feeling desperate before something flew at her foe from behind, taking them by surprise.

A garbage bag impacted their head, throwing their already precarious stance off balance and causing them to face plant on the concrete below.

"PAYBACKS A BITCH!" Came from the dumpster, reminding Kaylah that there was another person in this fight.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Kaylah sprinted, trying to get as close as she could. Running as fast as she could, Kaylah closed the distance with the shooter as the flipped themselves up in an impressive display of grace and agility.

Throwing a punch, Kaylah was surprised by the fact that she almost hit, the enemy just barely managing to sway out of the way of the attack.

The stumbled slightly, which Kaylah again took advantage off, darting in a throwing a quick jab at their gut before bringing her other arm back for a haymaker.

As the jab was blocked, Kaylah launched her fist forward, connecting with her opponent’s helmet.

Her metallic hand skittered off of the domed surface as they just managed to duck under her arm. Reaching down, they pulled out a knife that they tried to jam into Kaylah’s seemingly unprotected stomach.

Kaylah kicked out, managing to knock the knife out of their hands and throwing their arm wide away from the body. Grabbing their shoulder, Kaylah forced a thought into their head.

They both paused… before Kaylah was struck in her burnt arm, making her jerk back in pain, letting go of her quarry.

Pulling back, both stared at each other.

Confused, Kaylah just ran through what happened in her mind. “Why didn’t…” she began to ask before reminding herself that she was in the middle of a battle.

Another short lull came of the battle as both parties regarded each other.

Reviewing her power in her head, Kaylah almost groaned at her own stupidity and felt a strong urge to facepalm.

Seeing her momentary lapse in attention, the shooter dashed forward without warning.

Kaylah, caught off guard, didn’t manage to block the fist that met her face, sending her reeling.

Continuing their attack, the shooter swung their leg behind her’s and pulled it out from under her, sending her to the ground with the shooter following after.

Finding herself suddenly under her opponent, Kaylah narrowly blocked the fist coming towards her face. Kaylah tried to retaliate but was forced on the defensive by the shooter’s relentless attacks. Again and again, fist after fist slammed into her arms.

Then, a small pause came as she felt her attack shift on top of her.

Not wasting a moment, Kaylah lashed out in a hammer fist, missing her target but making them shift even more as to move out of the way.

Something that she used as she wrapped her leg around their’s and used their momentary unsteadiness to flip them over as one, putting Kaylah on top and them under. The roll also sent the knife that they had produced skittering off into the night.

Jabbing with her left as a distraction, Kaylah shot out with her right.

Blocking the jab, her opponent was helpless to stop Kaylah’s other arm from reaching its destination.

The bloody stump that sat in place of the second arm.

Kaylahfirmly grabbed it and touched a mind that felt... off.

Like someone had tried to emulate a human mind and failed. It was confusing, things weren’t where they should be, there was less where there should be more, and things were flipped around. Knowing that she didn’t have forever to poke around, Kaylah pushed a very simple thought into the alien brain.

SLEEP.

Pulling out, She waited in bated breath, watching the creature below her struggle before... falling limp underneath her.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kaylah allowed herself to slump over and fall onto the ground. And as the rain soothed her pains, Kaylah was reminded that the night wasn’t over yet.

<( o )>

“...Are they dead?” Anna asked worriedly, peeking from the dumpster at the two bodies lying on the ground. The one in the blue jacket immediately tensed up at the sound of her voice.

‘I guess that answers that question,’ Anna thought redundantly as she cautiously watched the super.

Anna had watched the fight from the dumpster with interest. She was actually quite happy that the super had shown up because didn’t know what she would’ve done otherwise.

She’d sorta panicked when she got shot at.

Admittedly, jumping into the dumpster would’ve been a good idea if she was a normal person…

‘But that’s just the thing, I’m not a normal person. I’m a god,’ she told herself. ‘God’s should not be jumping into dumpsters for protection.’

She’d gotten control of herself once the agent had turned away and engaged the super. In retaliation for scaring her, she’d thrown the trash bag at them, which had inadvertently helped the super close the distance. After they’d moved away some, Anna had spectated the fight to determine if she needed to interfere at all.

Thankfully, the super had managed to deal with the agent all alone, but now Anna realized that she had no idea who it was that saved her or what they wanted.

‘What if their working for a villain? Or another faction after Jamie?’ She debated, before facepalming. ‘God. I’m a god. Gotta remember that.’

‘Is this super after Jamie for his healing powers?’ she asked, giving a mental sigh of relief when she got her answer. ‘No. That’s good, ‘cause I’m not too sure what I would do if she was,’ she admitted, studying the super that was still laying tensed up on the ground.

She was tall, or at least taller than Anna. Compared to the giant on the ground beside her both of them would look small. Anna placed her height at around five-eight, five-nine.

She was a light-skinned African-American with her hair in dreadlocks. Those dreadlocks were currently up in a short ponytail behind her, probably to keep them out of the way in a fight.

She wore a dark blue synth-leather jacket that she’d zipped up and black leggings as well as some black sneakers. Her lower face was covered in a dark blue bandana, so Anna couldn’t get a good look at her features, but she seemed pretty from what she’d seen.

The super was certainly in shape with a toned body and muscles visible even through her jacket. She had the body of a personal trainer, and not the fake personal trainers that you see in pornos, the actual personal trainers that have, ya know, used weights on a consistent basis.

‘Getting back on track…’

Anna slowly climbed out of the dumpster, trying to avoid slipping and falling back downing to the decaying muck beneath her feet. As her feet finally set down on solid ground again, Anna glanced over at the doctor, who was still unconscious in the puddle.

After confirming that he was still there, Anna focused back on the super, only to freeze when she met her glare. Anna squeaked like a mouse in the face of the overwhelming hostility radiating from her.

“...who are you and why were they chasing you?” the super asked, her voice frosty, and motioned to the body beside her.

“I’m Anna, they’re not after me, they’re after him,” Anna answered and pointed before realizing that she maybe shouldn’t give away information to the scary super that just took down a trained and most likely enhanced agent.

“Why?” She asked, sitting up and looking towards the passed out man, who, admittedly, did not make for an impressive sight.

“...”

When Anna didn’t answer the super turned back to her, took in her worried expression, and sighed. “Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you,” she reassured, becoming less cold. “I just want to know if I can help you.”

Hesitating slightly, and knowing full well that this might be a bad idea, Anna eventually decided to take the risk. “He’s Miracle Man,” she explained simply, causing the super’s eyes to widen.

“Oh,” she looked back toward the disheveled man laying in dirty alley water, “Shit.”

<( o )>

Unbeknownst to both of them, another was watching them. A literal fly on the wall. Or the modern equivalent, at least.

Through a micro-drone, Ivan Peratovski watched in interest, an entire set of his telescopic eye’s fixed to the view screen. His audio sensors hooked to the drone, allowing him to hear what it did.

The one that identified herself as Anna nodded with an exhausted expression on her face. “Yeah, ‘shit’ is right. My whole apartment was trashed by a squad of… them,” she motioned to the unconscious Isipoki.

“And who are they?” the still unidentified super asked.

“I have no idea. Some sort of special forces. Gen-hanced maybe?” Anna groaned. “This was not how I wanted to spend my night.”

“Well, me neither-”

“KOSCHEI I’M BORED!” A voice yelled back at base, making Ivan pull back to his body, leaving a splinter mind in his place to monitor the conversation. He would reintegrate it later, allowing him to learn what took place while he was away.

“Transporter, what have I said about using an inside voice,” he said without inflection. His voice was monotone and incapable of conveying any emotion and Ivan preferred to keep it that way.

It made manipulating people easier.

“‘Transporter, what have I said about using an inside voice,’” she mocked as she made her way across the control center. “What if I don’t want to use an inside voice!? Eh?! You think of that, you bucket of bolts!?” She shouted as she flopped into one of the chairs.

All of Ivan’s six mechanical arms stopped their constant tapping as one, as he turned his full attention to his hired mercenary. “Then I will just revoke your contract and hire someone else, Transporter,” he stated without any threat and sounding all the more intimidating because of it.

“...shaddup,” she grumbled, laying face down on the station in front of her.

Studying her, Ivan noted her slurred speech, rosy cheeks, and lack of usual grace, and sighed. “You’re drunk,” he commented as his arms resumed their regular activities.

“No shit sherlock! I’m bored out of my mind! When are we gonna see some action!” Transporter yelled as she shot out of her chair. “We’ve been sitting here in the middle of the god damn ocean for three goddamn days! There’s only so much beer left on this ship you know!”

“Patience Transporter. New developments have occurred that need to be analyzed before any more moves are made.”

Settling down slightly at his words, she made a sour face. “Analyze this, analyze that, all you ever do is analyze, Koschei! When are we actually going to-”

“Somebody took out the Isipoki,” Ivan interrupted, making Transporter go silent.

“What?”

“Somebody took out the Isipoki,” he repeated turning his head slightly toward her, even though he could perceive her fine with her directly behind him.

“How?! Those lab-rats are practically fucking invincible! Who was it! The Americans?! Russians!? Megacorp!?” Transporter asked incredulously.

“A single girl managed to incapacitate two of them and keep them from following her, the final third one was able to follow but she did remove an arm. That one was taken out by a random super that happened to be passing by, with some help from that girl.” He explained.

Transporter just stared at him, like he’d gone insane.

“She did all this with a single MAG, which was admittedly very powerful but that’s beside the point. She had no professional training as far as I can find and only managed it because of luck. Luck that seems fairly suspicious. I suspect powers, but I have no proof of it.” Ivan elaborated.

Suddenly Transporter burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” she said as she tried to get her breath back. “I didn’t know you had a sense of humor Koschei, but that’s god damn funny.” she broke down into laughter again.

“I’m not kidding,” he said, fully turning away from the computer he was in front of, making Transporter stop laughing. He pointed to the screen. “This woman single-handedly managed to stop the most sophisticated and feared clandestine organization.”

Ivan had the micro-drone zoom in on Anna’s face.

“She not only managed to do that, but also escape with their target and make two of them incapable of following her because of the injuries they received. All without training.”

Anna’s smiled at something off-screen.

“I can find no cause behind her success besides the possibility of powers being at play.”

Anna walked off-screen, making the micro-drone zoom out to keep track of her.

This was why it had a great shot f her tripping and faceplanting once again into a puddle.

“She’s an unknown variable…”

As she got back up, Ivan studied her intently, searching for... something.

“And I hate unknown variable’s”