Entry One: The Knife's Edge

Time Reference - 0304h, July 4, 2012

She couldn't possibly have accounted for this, she told herself. Who could have known that someone would be playing the same game at the same time in the same place? Who could have prepared for something this statistically impossible? She knew how fragile her life was, how easily it could be tipped to one side or the other and how quickly it would fall apart once it did. That's why she was careful. That's why she planned out every step twelve steps in advance, making backup plans on top of backup plans, with tertiary backups in place for each of those, in ways that made chess grandmasters look like school kids on the playground. She'd never be caught without a way out. She was too good at what she did, and she knew too many people, was owed too many favors, to be lax.

There's no way she could have known, she told herself, for what little good it did relieving the stress that was building inside her. There's no way she could have factored this in. Traps? She can figure out the most complex security systems and swing through them like they're not even there. Confrontations? She can fight off legions of henchmen without breaking a sweat and still be home in time for dinner. Love? Even if she did have a particular fondness for a certain female counterpart on the other side of the law, it was nothing she couldn't handle. But this? This...

This is what led her to sitting on the edge of the roof of a highrise apartment building at three in the morning, wearing only a red sundress, open cellphone in one hand with a number entered and her thumb on the call button, a worn black and white speckled memo pad in the other hand, her legs dangling over the side, all the while the final shots of the nights fireworks blasted above, bathing her in the occasional moment of colored light.

She looked down at the world below as she kicked her feet in the wind current. "How easy it would be for me to just disappear from this world," she said to herself. "Just slip out in the night and nobody would notice."

The door to the roof send a bang echoing through the night as it closed. "Yo," said the man who had walked up behind her. He wore a simple purple sweatshirt, his hands stuffed in its pockets, and a pair of jeans.

"I'm sorry," she said. She didn't know if she really meant it, but it seemed like the right thing to say at a time like that. "I'm sorry I betrayed you. I'm sorry I destroyed your life."

"I know you are," he replied.

"I had no idea what was going on," she continued. "I was a kid with a crush, and you were..."

"Perfect?" he asked.

"Finding out that it was a lie just sent me over the edge," she said. "I thought that if I could bring down the house of cards, I could get to know the real you."

"An apt analogy, calling the life I'd built for myself a house of cards," he replied. "You know what you have to do, then, I take it."

"Can I... Can I make a call first?" she asked.

"Take your time," he replied.

She hit the call button on her phone and waited for the other end to pick up. "Hey," she said. "I'm just calling to tell you that I'm going away now. You two can do whatever you want without having to worry about me getting in your way anymore. I thought you'd want to hear it from me personally. I'd say I'll see you around, but somehow I don't think I will." She closed the phone and dropped it over the edge.

She stood and faced him. Her dress and hair fluttered in the wind. "Are you ready to take a flying leap into the unknown?" he asked.

She laughed. "I've jumped off of bridges, out of helicopters, and into burning buildings. Why does this scare me?" she said, forcing a smile.

"Because you know that your world comes to an end today," he replied with a smile. Unlike hers, it wasn't forced, but it wasn't malicious, either. In fact, nothing about him seemed to have any sort of ill intent. Instead, his demeanor, his smile, was kind.

"Only a matter of time, I guess," she replied. She stood on the edge of the building and looked down. "Oh how easy it would be."

Time Reference - 0923h, June 2, 2012

She ducked out of sight, avoiding the forthcoming patrol. She didn't want to hurt anyone if she didn't have to; this wasn't a job, a mission to which she was called by some other entity. Tonight was for her, a bit of fun to keep up her skills in what seemed like a period of downtime for all of villainy after the incidents surrounding the Lorwardian invasion; without villains, all that was left for her was practice before she'd eventually have to move on to other things.

"Huh, I guess it was the wind," one of the men said as he walked past her hiding spot.

"We're underground, dumbass," said the other man.

"Maybe it's a tornado or something," the first man said before turning around and walking away, the second man following behind.

She let out her breath as soon as they were out of earshot. She must be getting rusty, she thought to herself with a certain measure of resolve. Carefully, silently, she crawled out of the floor-level ventilation duct and returned to her previous path.

As she progressed, she looked through the windows into the array of unlit laboratories. Most contained robotics projects in various states of completeness, but one, in particular, piqued her interest. Inside was a large spider-shaped robot, appearing to be large enough to fit one person comfortably inside but not much more.

Moving on, she found her destination: The lab at the end of the hall on the lowest level of the villain's secret lair. She entered through the ground-level ventilation grate. An escape route in case the doors fail, she assumed.

Inside, she realized the first small problem with her plan. As she had nothing to retrieve, and the test was simply to get in and out without being noticed, she had nothing with which to keep herself occupied during the five or so minutes she had planned to stay in the room. With an aggravated sigh, she sat down in the office chair at the desk and began to spin idly.

A few minutes later, she got back up and crawled out of the room. She made her way out of the facility, keeping out of sight of the patrols and guard stations.

As she passed the final checkpoint on her way out, she heard one of the guards say, "I, uh... I don't have anything on my list about a shipment at this time of night."

"I don't care what's on your list," said a man's voice. "My boss told me to bring this thing to your boss, and that what I'm gonna do. Or would you rather I shove a fireball down your throat?"

She knew that voice. It called out to her from somewhere in her past, and though she couldn't place it, she knew the implications of hearing it, and that terrified her.

Time Reference - 0307h, July 4, 2012

She let out a sigh. It wasn't one of exasperation or melodramatics, but a symbolic release of the built-up emotions inside her. He took her hand from behind. She smiled and turned around.

They stood there, hand in hand, staring at each other. The lights on the roof made her look unusually pale, and silhouetted against the black sky, even she, herself, thought that she could be nothing more than a ghost.

"Let's go."

"Yeah."

Author's Notes:

Hello, and welcome to my new story. If you've read some of my other work (an action which I wholeheartedly and shamelessly endorse), you'll notice that this is in a very different style. And if you're wondering with the next story in the Second Gig series starts, it'll be soon, I promise. I'm just finishing up the continuity of what happens between the end of Second Gig and the beginning of Tertiary.

And yes, I realize that I never tell you who 'He' and 'She' are. I did that on purpose. Y'all can have a fight in the reviews section if you feel like it, but I recommend waiting for the next chapter, when both characters are named.