More than a Bird, More than a Plane

by SharKohen

'It may sound absurd, but don't be naive. Even heroes have a right to bleed.' In post Anti-Hero Act Ameripan, teen heroes are a problem. Dragon Kid? Criminal. Teleporting Archer? Psycho. Long-hair Girl? Ditz. Immortal Ice-guy? Fugitive. Forget the shadowy ganglord and his frosty daughter. We're too busy shooting good guys. SuperheroAU w/ Japanese elements. ROBTFD/disney/dreamworks

25. Chpt 24: Blanks and Bullets

Chapter 24: Blanks And Bullets

She was the epitome of a strong, independent, beautiful – very beautiful, in fact – young woman. There might be some who would argue that she was no longer as young as before, and perhaps the ideals of beauty have too changed over time, but it couldn't be denied that she was, at least, a very striking figure.

She stepped through the doorway of the National Supers Agency building like the diva she was, huge sun-glasses resting on her nose and a Coach handbag swinging prominently over her shoulder. Of course, it wasn't publicly known that this was an NSA building. On the online maps, it was labelled as a government-run auditing centre, and even a few floors had auditors and accountants working there just to maintain the illusion. The NSA itself had to go underground along with the Supers they had protected at the end of the Golden Age. To most of the public, it had faded into an urban legend, much like the Illuminati and Area 51.

However, the character of interest was by no means an ordinary member of the public. Well, she was somewhat of minor celebrity and she had attained some accolades that could be considered remarkable, but that wasn't the major distinguishing feature she possessed. It could be said, in a way, that what allowed her knowledge of the NSA's existence and headquarter locations was not because of who she was as much as who she had been.

She dropped her handbag right onto the reception counter, startling the young man who had been on the phone at the time. His scribbles on his writing pad went abruptly into an illegible mess as he gazed up at the bold, voluptuous figure smiling down at him, raising her sunglasses over her forehead. Stuttering into the phone, he stuttered into the mouthpiece, "Errr, you know what-what, um, I'll-" swallowing more as the smile became a little wider "-um, I'll call you back."

He replaced the receiver back where it had been and the woman beamed approvingly.

The receptionist, still trembling from the residual effects of her both terrifying yet bewitching presence - " 'ternoon, m'am, how can I-" choking a little in his nervousness "-can I help you?"

"Why, yes." The slender hand not holding the glasses dug into her handbag. "I have an appointment here with someone called-" she clicked the button on the side of the device "-Mirage?" She made a face. "What kind of name is Mirage, actually?"

"Mirage," the receptionist repeated, briskly jumping back into action as he typed furiously through his pad, brows narrowed in unbridled concentration.

While waiting, she ran a hand through her black curls, neatening up the stray locks that had mussed during the drive. She then proceeded to examine her nails, wordlessly critiquing the work done by her manicurist and deciding that she would have to give her a piece of her mind when she returned to Korobe.

"Um-" a squeak came from the receptionist and she glanced up, "-You're Ms. Wolfe?"

"Gothel Wolfe," she clarified, privately hoping that the name would be recognised.

There was no gasp of surprise or jaw-drop of awe, however, and she frowned when the reception continued scrolling through the list on his digital pad as if she was just one of hundreds that came by this counter very day. "Yes, well, m'am, the problem is that Mirage is currently caught up in a meeting. Do you mind waiting for a while?"

Her patience had completely evaporated in that millisecond. She had taken four hours to drive here – four! Four hours that she could have spent lounging in the luxury of an herbal spa, or attending a matinee orchestra concert, or going for an afternoon tea at a producer's courtyard. She didn't have time for this kind of nonsense!

And this young, uneducated and probably extremely unaccomplished young punk was asking her to wait, as if she were some starry-eyed chorus girl wanting an audition.

"Look, here, you worthless chunk of slime." Lurching forward and grabbing hold of him by the tie, Gothel's lost all pretense of being amicable when she heard the wimp behind the counter yelp in surprise. "Get this Mirage person to see me right this instance or you'll spend the rest of your life looking like an ostrich."

"Wha-what?" the fool stammered.

"And stop the mumbling. Really! It's annoying!" She threw him back into his seat, the force enough to topple him backwards and sent his legs flying over his head. She snorted unapologetically at the sight. "Heavens, the way people enunciate these days."

While the stunned receptionist picked himself off the floor, shaking from head to toe, Gothel took the moment to examine her nails again, humming in thought.

"You know what," she suddenly said out loud to the receptionist who trying to straighten his tie and suit, "I've decided that this colour isn't half-bad after all." She curled fingers in her palm, then straightened out and watched how the lights played on the deep crimson hue. "It looks kind of like blood, I suppose, and that's rather fashionable this time of the year."

When Gothel lifted her head to the counter once again, she found that the receptionist was staring at her blankly.

Scowling crossly, she was all but screeching at him, "What are you waiting for? Get on with it!"

Like a lion whipped by his trainer, the young man fumbled hastily over the commands on the screen while the woman slid her sunglasses back down, rolling her eyes behind the tinted lens. Men.

---

"Your mother's here."

Rapunzel felt her entire body stiffen just as the announcement.

During the four hour wait, she wasn't too sure with how to keep herself occupied the NSA centre. Fortunately, UV, who was apparently her warden to make sure she didn't run off anywhere, was able to get her into the recreation room. There was no one else there but the two of them, since it was working hours for most of the staff here.

They had played chess first, and Rapunzel had to admit that it was quite a challenge to play against someone who wasn't Pascal or a programme on the computer. UV was only an average player though, and she still loss six out nine times to the visiting brunette girl. It was a fairly interesting game, as far as brain-draining games went, but eventually the slender black-haired girl was bored enough to ask that they change their leisure activity.

Most of the other games in the recreation room required more than two players, and it was clear that the senior super was not so comfortable with Pascal playing side by side with them. So they ended up sitting in front of the wide-screen television watching a documentary about the history of the Imperial family of Ameripan. UV wasn't very interested in it and spent most of the time texting on her phone – her boyfriend, because despite the busy schedule of hero-work she apparently had one.

Rapunzel herself merely sat cross-legged on the couch next to her, leaning herself back into the plush cushions and watched the show, feeding cornflakes to Pascal at the same time. She found the content rather fascinating, actually, because in all the home-school lessons that her mother gave her, history was a subject that she often glossed over. Her mother felt that the past had much darkness and brutality that a young girl shouldn't know about. Even as a child, she didn't quite understand it. Sometimes, when she would sneak out to the town library and borrow glossy encyclopedias about Ancient Civilizations. She hid those books under her bed and read them only after lights-out hours. As she poured over funfacts and tidbits about the olden empires of Egypt, Rome and China, she wondered if Mother had never learnt the better side of history.

Of course, she went through her own version of the 'princess phase' after reading so much about royalty. When she was eight, Mother caught her parading around with an origami crown on her head. Her only reaction was to cackle, remove the paper ornament, crunch it up in ball and toss in the bin.

"Succumbing to the image of the subservient, irresponsible and objectified feminine ideal, Rapunzel?" Her mother had rebuked her at the time, not seeming to care that she didn't understand half of the words. "I thought I taught you better than that. Besides,-" shelet out a laugh that had been too spiteful to be in jest "-you have as much chance of being a princess as I as supervillain."

It wasn't the easiest childhood, but Rapunzel had to admit that it was safe. Mother had protected her from most uglies and vices, keeping her in tedious sphere of unexcitable routine. The older she got, though, the girl realised that safety became increasingly less important in view of other desirables – like novelty, or idealism, or purpose.

But at this very moment, she wished that she could bury herself in the safety of a cavern, or a cove, or some far, far away place that didn't require her to face the wrath of her mother. Mother, though temperamental, was not a violent woman, but all the same, Rapunzel had enough reason to worry.

"Well?" The agent standing at the door looked directly at her, one of her smooth, straight brows lifted. "Aren't you coming?"

The girl reluctantly lifted herself off the couch, picking Pascal up from the armrest and let him scramble into her pocket. His existence hadn't been made known to Mother yet, and the chameleon was pretty adamant that it wouldn't be in the near future. UV also kicked herself off the couch and followed behind though she hadn't been invited. Her white-haired mentor didn't seem to mind though, just curtly leading them from the recreation room to a meeting hall.

When the electric door slide open, Rapunzel heard a cry that made her heart leap and sink at the same time - "Rapunzel! There you are."

Mother stood by the side of the oval table, polished, radiant and smiling as she often was. As usual, she was draped in dark colours that made accentuated the fairness of her skin, but without blending her into the background. Her long dangling earrings were cut into wire crescents, jingling against the sheet of night that were her curls.

A timid voice squeaked out from her throat, "Mother."

The woman's smile thinned as she advanced forward, wrapping her in an embrace. Rapunzel returned the hug automatically.

"Well, I'm very happy to see you, dear. Thank the spirits that you're in one piece," was her mother's tired voice in her ear, and for a moment, Rapunzel dared to hope that she was forgiven. But then – "It has been such a terrible week for me, after all, having my own daughter running off doing who-knows-what with not so much as a goodbye note. And of course, -" her voice, though sounding casual, was laced with contempt, "-she also didn't answer any of my calls, though that's the only reason I ever gave her phone in the first place."

The brunette girl sighed, knowing full well that this was a crime that would not be easy to atone for. "Mother, please let-"

"No excuses, Rapunzel." Immediately, the girl held her tongue. Drawing herself back but still holding her daughter by the wrist, Mother's tone allowed no room for argument. "We're going home, and you'll be hanging that costume up for a very, very long time."

"But, Mother,-" she protested.

"I've made so many concessions for you," Mother rambled on. "I hated every bit of it, but you wanted it, so I let you because I'm nothing if not a supportive mother. And here's the fruit of rebellion." Her mother raised a hand to her forehead, throwing her head back with a tragic air. "Chasing after crazy vigilantes in dangerous cities, finding dead bodies, fraternising with alien fugitives-"

"Well, in my defense," the girl managed to put in when Mother stopped for a breath. "I didn't know he was a fugitive. He used to be a hero too, after all. Besides, he's nice."

"Nice? Oh, Rapunzel, Rapunzel." Her mother shook her head with a patronising smile, bending herself forward slightly as if her daughter were a child that needed to be spoken down to. "You are too naïve to be here, Rapunzel, if you think that 'niceness' tells you anything about a person. No." Her mother gripped her firmly on the shoulder. "The longer you stay out in the world, the more likely that someone's going to use you and gifts for their wicked agendas. As your mother, I cannot-" she was sure to put the bite in the words "-will not let that happen."

"Mother," Rapunzel tried earnestly once more, "I've learnt and seen so many things in Burgeshima. If I'm going to be a good superhero, I need this kind of experience."

"Superhero?" Mother echoed the word scornfully. "Rapunzel, the world doesn't want heroes anymore. In fact, it doesn't deserve us." Her manicured hands gripped onto the ends of her scarf subconsciously as she gazed out into the blank distance. "There was a time that they worshipped us, adored us - tripped over themselves just to get a glimpse of us. And now?" She snorted ruefully, tossing one end of the scarf over her shoulder. "They hate us. No, worse-" Mother clenched her teeth together "-they ignore us. They kick us off their heels as if we're nothing but dust. What's the point of being a hero if no one thanks you for it?"

Tipping her head up by the chin, forcing her daughter to look up at her, Mother said, "The world is a wicked, greedy, selfish place, Rapunzel. It's no place for a fragile flower like you." It was then she caught sight of the other teenager was hovering by the doorway next to Mirage, watching the scene with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"UV." The girl in costume stepped forward, sticking a hand out in greeting. "At your service."

Mother just stared at her as if UV as if she were a three-eyed demon. "Well," she finally huffed out, ignoring the hand all together, "clearly the new age of supers have no idea how to pick their hero names."

Even with the black mask covering half her face, it was clearly that UV was offended. She clenched her fist and dropped her arms back to her side. Mother didn't care though, turning immediately to the NSA agent. "Well, if that is all, I'll be leaving now with my daughter."

"Actually, Matahari-" Mirage began, stepping forward with a palm raised.

"I do not go by that name anymore," Mother interrupted, flames igniting briefly in the centre of her pupils as it was mentioned. Slipping her sunglasses off her forehead and plopped back on her nose, she said, with emphasis, "It's Gothel Wolfe now, and that's all it'll ever be."

"I apologise, Ms. Wolfe," the white-haired agent corrected herself smoothly, holding up a digital pad in her arms. "But it's been ages since you last checked in with NSA and we need update your particulars."

"You mean that you want to find out if I've been using my powers to shoot to stardom? To see if I've developed Anti-Ameripanian sentiments after all that you've put me through?" Mother accused, throwing back her curls with snort. "Well, I suppose I don't have a choice, do I?"

Mirage led Mother to the other end of the meeting room while UV stepped next to the younger girl, a bitter twitch in her lip. "Well, your mum's quite a …character."

"Sorry about that," Rapunzel murmured with a sigh, glancing guiltily at the other girl. They hadn't spent long enough a time to consider themselves friends, but she hadn't met that many – or rather, any – girls her age before, and she was troubled to think that this might carve a divide between them.

"It's not your fault," UV told her comfortingly, before still shooting an annoyed look at the black-haired woman, who was now rolling her eyes and complaining quite dramatically to Mirage. "I can totally see why you have to get away from her."

"I don't have to get away from my mother," the brunette was quick to contradict, rubbing the spot where Mother had gripped her subconsciously. "She's just very protective over me."

"Protective? More like overbearing." UV made a disgruntled sound at the back of her throat, putting her gloved hands on her hips. "She treats me like an idiot. Heck, she treats you like a toddler!"

"She's only doing what she thinks is best for me," Rapunzel defended, raising her voice a little as her indignance grew. It was true that she didn't always like Mother's methods of upbringing or her mannerisms, but Mother was still her mother, and a stranger, no matter how well-meaning, didn't have the right to criticize her. "Please don't talk about her like that."

"If you say so," UV murmured reluctantly, not wishing to offend but not willing to change her mind either. "But are you really that ready to give up being a hero?"

"Yes." Rapunzel bit her tongue when she said it. "No. Well, it's-" she rubbed her elbow "-it's complicated. I mean, it would give Mother more of a peace of mind if I did give it up." Rapunzel shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

"You can't just stop doing things because your mother wants you to, you know. I mean, for all your life, at least." UV paused, pushing her black strands behind her ear. "Well, at least two years from now, the NSA won't be obliged to inform your mother of your whereabouts anymore."

"Two years?" Rapunzel repeated.

"Yeah. I mean, that's the only reason why we told your mum anything." UV waved a hand towards the side of meeting table where the older women were sitting at. "You're a minor, and since your mum was technically an ex-hero, the NSA has to get informed consent before letting you do hero stuff at all. Come seventeen, though, you're free." She noted how Rapunzel's eyeballs were almost bulging out of their sockets.

Blinking in confusion, she said, slowly, "I am seventeen."

"You're what now?" Now it was UV's turn to look confused.

"I'm seventeen. I'll be eighteen by next month." Rapunzel cocked her head at her curiously. "Whatever made you think otherwise?"

UV appeared very much stricken. "Your records with in the NSA database say that you're fifteen."

"How could they make such a mistake? I mean,-" Rapunzel brought a hand up to massage the side of head, "-I figured that since the NSA has connections with Mother, she'd correct them on such a thing."

The black-haired girl brooded a little in silence, then said in softly, "Unless your mum was the one who told them that you were younger than you really are."

Rapunzel frowned. "Why would she do that?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" UV murmured grimly. "Why would she? Why wouldn't she?"

"UV." Mirage's demand broke their conversation. Though only one was called, both girls' heads towards the white-haired woman, who instructed her mentee, "Could you retrieve Rapunzel's belongings and bring them here? It'll save time on her getting it later."

"That's a good idea," Mother piped in, glancing at her phone. "I do want to get out of this place as soon as possible. I've a performance tonight, you see," she explained to the other woman casually, though Rapunzel did know that she was rather proud of it. "A full house event – very exclusive too."

"Indeed," Mirage nodded politely, her face absolutely blank of sincere expression. "Now, if you don't mind, could you answer these following questions…"

When UV disappeared out of the meeting room, still a little troubled, Rapunzel sat herself down at the table since there was nothing better to do. Pascal crawled off her pocket to rest on her lap and she lightly massaged the scales on his back while quietly eavesdropping on the conversation amongst the adults.

"So I gathered that you haven't really changed your job then, have you?" she heard Mirage posit in light tone.

"Well, I haven't really been acting in the last few years," Mother answered, absent-mindedly smoothing out her dress. "The rehearsal, the regime, the hours-" she waved a hand flamboyantly in the air "-it was all so terrible stressful and time-consuming. I do want to spend time with my daughter."

That last line sent a twinge of shame in Rapunzel. Mother did spend a good deal of time away from home, which made her lonely at times, but Mother was trying to make a decent living so that they could live comfortably and safely. Mother had often said that she worked so hard because she never wanted Rapunzel to have a reason to be exposed to the vices of the world the way she had to be. Mother was sometimes unreasonably strict, but she did just want to protect her.

Still – lying about her age to the National Supers Agency? What was the point of that?

"I'm mostly into doing smaller engagements now – little concerts, collaboration with music groups. A good deal of freelance," she heard Mother rattled on. "It's quite enjoyable, even though some of the less uneducated cretin have no idea who I am. Really! To think I was a favourite in the glory days."

"I'm sorry," Rapunzel watched as Mirage paused her typing on her digital pad, "'glory days'?"

"I'm talking about my glory days as a thespian, not a superhero. Please,-" Mother scoffed while reclining back into her chair. "- I never got as much recognition as I did as a Super than an actress – an award-winning actress. Have you ever heard of the musical 'Passion'?"

The white-haired woman thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"Really?" Mother raised a brow, swerving her chair around so that the two of them were face to face. "Well, then you should check it out. It's a very novel production – incredibly inspired. Anyway, I-" she gestured at herself proudly "-was in the original cast. I won an award for that. My very first award."

"Yes," Mirage said obligingly, glancing down at her pad quite gravely. "Ms. Wolfe?"

Mother didn't seem to hear her. "No, wait, or was that the second one? Well, -" she shrugged nonchalantly "-I've won so many that it's so hard to keep track of them all."

"Ms. Wolfe." The added sharpness of Mirage's tone did finally catch Mother's attention, making her sit up in her seat. The darker-skinned woman leaned forward, hands clenched together and set before her to show her seriousness. It was clear that which was to be said was not easy, for the NSA agent was seen to be thinking hard before asking, "Have you in recent years have reason to suspect your life might be in danger?"

Any flippancy in Mother's manner vanished. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, despite the NSA's best efforts-" Mirage pursed her lips "-we have not yet caught La Tunda."

The name alone was enough to send shivers down Rapunzel's spine. She had heard too many tales of La Tunda not to feel at least a little disturbed.

Mother opened her mouth to answer – possibly a biting comment – but then she saw Rapunzel staring intently at the two of them from the other end of the room. Finally, she said, "I think I'd prefer not to discuss this in front of my daughter."

"Um." The brunette clumsily rose to her feet, almost knocking her chair over in her hurry. "I think I'll go use the bathroom?"

Mother waved a hand carelessly at her, so she left the meeting room, tugging the coat over her shoulders. While a part of her honestly didn't want to think of La Tunda – the creature of her nightmares – she wished that Mother would let her listen in. After all, La Tunda was the reason Mother made as many difficult decisions as she did, and she was grown up enough to know more about the creature that Mother so feared and hated. Mother, however, would think that she only wanted to know because she wanted to be a superhero and that this interest was just childish rebellion.

When she arrived at the bathroom, Rapunzel realized that she didn't actually need to use it at all. That left her hovering listlessly around the sinks.

"What should I do, Pascal?" she asked the chameleon, whom she had set on the sink counter. She swung around again as she began pacing, then swivelled around again when she hit the wall. "I know Mother wants me to go home, and that I should probably go home, but…" she trailed off, tugging subconsciously against the short brown locks.

Pascal nodded at her encouragingly.

"Well," Rapunzel let out a short exhale, tilting at her head towards the ceiling as she resumed her train of out loud thought. "I do know that 13's going to do something terrible in Burgeshima, and it involves the Nightmare Yakuza. They might not be good people, and I suppose they deserve whatever's coming to them, but-" she hesitated "-it can't be right, right? It can't be right to just pass judgement like that."

She kneaded her elbow as she started yet another round of pacing. "That's not what heroes are meant to do." She glanced at Pascal, eager for reassurance, speaking faster and faster as more ideas came to her head. "I mean, heroes are supposed to save lives, not take them, right? Heroes are supposed to make things right, not pay back wrongs with wrongs. If the world is really wicked and selfish as Mother says it is, then-" she bit her lip, pace slowing altogether "-then heroes need to fix it. I-" her voice wavered a little, but there was a good deal more conviction in her softness than her loud ramble "-I need to fix this."

She heard the door swing open and Rapunzel jumped, fearing that it might be Mother and that she could hear all that she had said to herself (and also Pascal), but there was no one to be seen passing the door. The girl thought it a little odd, but not enough to be distracted.

She continued brooding a little while longer until she heard a voice say, "We don't have a lot of time."

Then out of nowhere, her satchel came flying in front of her face. She managed to catch it, yes, but was completely stupefied to find that she was still alone in the bathroom. Rapunzel's eyes darted back and forth around the bathroom, gripping the bag in her hand as she tried to find the source of the voice.

"Sorry if this startling," the voice suddenly spoke again out of nowhere, before an amalgamation of red and black fizzled into vision. Rapunzel jumped back and gasped as she found UV standing in front of her, with a grim expression behind her thin mask. "But if I'm caught on camera, Mirage would kill me."

"Oh?" was all Rapunzel could utter, perplexed.

Glancing furtively over her shoulder, the costumed hero then told her, "I don't think your mum is right. You're old enough to decide if you want to be a hero. No matter what she says, the world needs heroes, even if it doesn't want them. We're not in it for the thanks – we're in it because it's right." She held out a slim gloved hand to Rapunzel. "If you want to go back to Burgeshima, I can help you, but you have to come with me. Now."

Rapunzel glanced at the proffered hand, then at the narrowed eyes behind the mask. Then she nodded, taking the hand. "What do we do?"

"Follow exactly what I say," UV said, turning invisible halfway through speaking. Rapunzel had to admit that the sight of that happening right before her eyes was quite unnerving. She then felt a sharp tug on her hand, pulling forward. "C'mon!"

Grabbing Pascal with her free hand in time, Rapunzel hurriedly slipped the satchel's strap over her head as both of them burst out of the bathroom. She felt UV pulling in the opposite direction of the meeting room and was a little disorientated to find herself sprinting down an array of corridors she had never seen before. When they were crossing a cafeteria, she felt the pressure on her hand lift slightly and found herself forced into a calm, but hurried walk. Almost automatically, her head turned towards the café, wondering if any of the diners there would see her and stop her.

"Just look forward," she heard UV whisper to her, and she obeyed immediately, feeling a trickle of sweat down her forehead when they reached the halfway point of the crossing. Some of the dining stuff had spotted her, but their gaze didn't linger long. Her calm pace must have deceived them to think that she was one of the many workers here.

"Okay." She heard UV breathing, but she still couldn't place exactly where her invisible head was, or what exactly the other girl was looking at. "It's a five hundred miles between this facility and Burgeshima. Even if you went by car, it'd take you at least nine hours. You can drive, can't you?"

"Urm, no," Rapunzel felt odd talking into the open air like that, "I know how to ride a motorbike though."

"Motorbike?" she could hear the disbelief in UV's tone as they reach the exit of the cafeteria, opening into a lane of open cubicles and hurried people, all of which ignored her and somehow managed not to bump into the unseeable girl. "Your mum let you learn how to ride a bike, but not drive a car?"

"My mum didn't know about it till I brought the bike home," Rapunzel murmured quietly, feeling slightly ashamed about yet another thing she had gone and done behind her mother's back. Mother had given her the cold shoulder for that entire week when she had found out. She had tried to appease her with well-done chores, a new dress she made and preparing a nice dinner. But Mother had just criticised her for being sloppy with the housework, that the dress was tacky and the dinner plain.

"Of course," she heard a scoffing mutter as they swung towards an elevator landing, which opened just as they reached. After the staff in there cleared it, both of them entered – or Rapunzel presumed it was both of them, at least. "Makes sense, I suppose."

"Where are we going?" the brunette girl asked, wanting to change the topic.

"The Garage. Hit the button for 'B5'." Rapunzel found the button on the elevator wall with the appropriate number and hit it.

As the door began closing, a hand suddenly stuck itself in the gap, halting the shutting process. As the two panels slides back open again a young man – an agent, Rapunzel presumed by his dress – smiled as he stepped inside. "Sorry about that. Rushing for a meeting." He jabbed a button on the wall and the door drew shut. Mutely, Rapunzel nodded and she was thankful that the other girl in the lift went absolutely quiet.

The descent of the elevator was silent except for the playing of classical music and the agent tapping his finger against his digital pad, humming along to the tune. There was a beep in his pocket, which led him to drawing out his phone and checking it, then replacing it. With his head twisted around like that, he shot a fleeting glance at the brunette girl, then back to his pad screen. Then he suddenly froze up, and swung around, looking at her long and hard.

And then Rapunzel noted that the document he read on the pad started with the title, 'BURGESHIMA, MARCH CASE REPORT' with a few photos below it, one of which looked sort of like her.

She tensed.

"Hey," he began, gazing down at his pad, then scrutinising her again, "aren't you suppose to-"

His digital pad was suddenly ripped from his hands, seeming to be magically floating in the air and used to smack him on the head. It didn't knock him out, but it did distract him. Immediately after, the elevator door opened and Rapunzel heard UV shout, "Go!"

She dashed forward immediately, panicked and not completely sure where she was going. Fortunately, there was only one course to travel down and she ripped across it as if she was being chased by cheetahs. She glanced behind her, only to realize how useless it was to search for an invisible person with her eyes. It was only that she heard panting next to her that she said, "UV?"

"Yep," came the affirmative answer in between huffs.

"Was that really necessary?" Her tone was a tad chiding.

"Yes, actually. You have no idea how by the book some people in the agency are," came the reply as a covered parking area came into view. "He would have dragged you back to your mother himself, and called in others if you resisted."

It was warm with the heat of exhaust, but it didn't have the smell of burning diesel as some underground parking lots had. Rapunzel felt UV grab her wrist and found herself yanked past the various vehicles that were stood in the lots. She didn't have the time to really appreciate them, but she did notice that the cars here were all polished, sleek-looking things that were likely to be more than their appearances. She had watched her fair share of spy movies, after all.

"Here we are." UV had taken to them to some kind of overhead … chute? There seemed to be nothing in it. Rapunzel jumped when she saw a card appear out of nowhere, floating in the air till it was brought to the reader on the side of the chute. The large chute that glowed with a mix of blue and yellow lights as something was lowered down – a beautiful, streamlined white motorbike. The tires were polished to perfection, and the handgrips gleamed like silver. If bikes could dream, then this would be what they would dream of being.

"This is the Full Throttle Maximus," she heard UV say with a hint of pride. "Not the newest model, but no doubt the best."

"Wow." Timidly, Rapunzel reached a hand out to touch and jerked back when she felt the engine rumble to life. The headlights came to light with a dim white glare.

"It's touch-activated. If you have time, you can set it to recognise only your handprints." She felt UV latch something to her arm, so she looked at it. It was a small bracelet with the words 'Maximus' on it. "This is the key. You can use it to bring the bike to you from a distance, or you can send it to park somewhere else."

"Wow," she said again, because she had no other words, and the gaps in her speech was filled by the sounds of running feet.

"Oh, great," she could almost hear UV rolling her eyes as she caught onto the movement herself. "Well," she huffed "you better get on the bike."

Rapunzel climbed onto the bike, having one of her feet on the footrest in preparation. As she leaned forward to take hold of the handgrip, she was surprised to find that the glass windshield had a laser lit screen in front of her, with a short command saying, 'State Name.'

"Rapunzel?" she said uncertainly.

The words on the screen disappeared, replaced by - 'Voice recognition locked.'

"What just happened?" the brunette asked, glancing anxiously towards the entrance of the garage.

"Maximus now takes vocal commands from you," she heard the girl say just as a helmet fell into her hands. "If you want to add other voices, do it later. Right now, you should really get out of here."

"Okay." She strapped her helmet over her head, leaning forward as she lifted her other leg off the ground and hit the gas pedal, turning the spark advance as she did.

And nothing happened.

"Why isn't it-" Rapunzel turned it again, perplexed and little anxious now that she saw agents pouring through the lots, heads swerving around. "Why can't it-"

"Vocal command. You have to tell him to what to do."

The brunette turned the handgrip again to no avail. "You talk about the bike as if it's a person."

"Well, I can say Max is pretty special." UV's tone was a little sentimental, and it suddenly occurred to Rapunzel that this motorcycle was actually her own.

More patient this time, the brunette asked, "How do I do it again?"

"Just say something like … 'Maximus, go to Burgeshima!'"

"Maximus, go to Burgeshima?" Rapunzel repeated, a little unsure.

She felt her body jerk back as the stationary bike accelerated abruptly from zero to fifty miles per hour.

Like lightning, the bike bolted through the garage, streaming down so fast that she barely recovered her senses in time to swerve it away from hitting a wall. Down their new path, she saw several agents yelling at her to stop, but at the sight of the bike heading towards them, they jumped out of the way.

"Sorry!" she called through grit teeth, because she did feel a little bad about scaring them like that. Rapunzel gripped the handles and swung the bike around yet another corner, deciding to attempt another command, "Um, Max? Could you get me out of this building?"

She suddenly felt the handgrip twist itself about, pulling her into a blurred whirl towards a dark passageway that she hadn't seen before. Flickering lights blinked in her vision as she realized the windscreen now showed her white lines and boxes. It took a while for her to understand them.

"Is this … a map?" she asked tersely, nothing the number on the windscreen indicating the speed climbing steadily.

She could have sworn that the motorcycle hummed an affirmative.

"Okay." There was a pulsing hollow circle moving along it, which she presumed was their location. She then noticed there were smaller circles following it. Frowning, she glanced behind her and noted a few glowing lights.

"You are not authorised to use that vehicle," she heard someone boom over the rolling engines. "Stop at once and surrender yourself!"

"I suppose I'm a fugitive myself now," Rapunzel muttered under her breath as she turned to face forward again.

She could have sworn that the motorcycle hummed in agreement to that too.

The path that Maximus led her to brought her past many different vehicles that the NSA owned. There was a hangar for planes of various shapes and functions, another garage which had nothing but personal mobility devices, and even just one area just for bicycles. Why they would need normal bikes when they had motorbikes like Max, she didn't know.

As they drew to the end of the corridor, the exit came into sight. The problem was – it wasn't open.

"Oh, dear. Um, Maximus? Maybe we should go another way." She felt the bike jerk about, speeding away from the sealed exit to a nearby ramp. She could hear the warning announcement echo again and winced. If she didn't get out of here soon, they could very well catch her.

The ramp was a curved in an upward spiral, spinning her up and up, higher and higher, only pulling off about five floors later. She hadn't noticed then where the bike was headed to until she saw that the concrete below their feet had disappeared, replaced with carpet.

"Wait a moment…" she stared hard the map on the windscreen, which had rapidly altered its path. Her mouth fell open as its meaning sunk into her. "What!"

The double doors flung open when the front wheel hit and before she could do anything, she was rolling through the office. The secretaries at their staff almost dropped their work at the sight of the motorcycle zooming pass their cubicles.

"Don't mind me!" Rapunzel yelled as she whizzed past, praying that she somehow managed not to hit anyone.

And then she noticed the huge glass window in front of them, in between two work cubicles. She glanced down at the map and to her horror realized this was where the path ended.

"Max, wait," she tried to tug the bike to a new direction, but for some reason, it was no long moveable. "What are you doing?"

The glass panel came even closer.

"MAX!" She was beating her fist against the composite body of the bike. "NO!"

She swore that the bike laughed at her.

Just before the collision, Rapunzel managed to hastily construct a light-shield for her body. When the bike hit the glass though, the forceful impact made her lose her focus and her shield cracked as if it too was glass. As they flew through the smattering window, she was fortunate to find that she was mostly unhurt.

And then they went soaring through the air.

A shriek escaped her lips as she watched them sail away from the tall glass complex, and let out a squeak when the tires hit the zinc roof of the adjacent building. Amazingly, the motorbike just bobbed up and down a little before whirring up the slant of the roof, then rolling them over the peak and down the edge again. Rapunzel screamed but the bike didn't stop, using the newly gained momentum to launch itself up once more, this time throwing them over the concrete wall that surrounded the NSA facility.

She didn't scream this time, but her heart plummeted with gravity as the bike began dipping downwards and she squeezed her eyes shut when she felt the first tire hit the ground. The force was almost enough to lurch her forward, but she felt the seat below lower itself along with the impact, keeping her from flying off the bike. When she opened her eyes, they were speeding through the small suburban town that the facility was built in, accelerating so rapidly they were out onto the highway within seconds.

"Well, I can't believe I did this," Rapunzel said to herself, glancing behind again just to make sure that no one was following. Then she smiled to herself. They were going back to Burgeshima! She had a second chance at stopping whatever horrible thing 13 was going to do! She could make this right!

She tugged against the handrails excitedly, screaming into the empty open road, "I can't believe I did this!"

And then she thought of Mother's grim tone and cutting reprimands. Rapunzel groaned, smashing her head against the windshield. "Mother's going to be absolutely furious."

Then she straightened herself up, hardening her heart. "No. No. I need to do what is right. I need to fix the problem. I can do this. Mother's feelings are not the only thing important here."

Maybe a mile later, she was dragging a hand down her face, moaning, "What have I done?"

The motorbike, who had fortunately taken over the driving, could have been said to have been rolling his headlights all the way through the journey.

---

"So let me get this straight," Gothel said very slowly, swinging her sunglasses in her hand. "My daughter – a goody-two-shoes girl who's a little on the 'dumb-blonde' side – stole a high tech motorcycle and escaped from a highly guarded government facility." She stared at the agent expectantly.

"Well,-" Mirage twisted her hands together uneasily "-we've clearly underestimated her."

"You couldn't have possibly underestimated her," sneered the other woman, tossing her curls back while rising to her feet. "She's barely a child. I can't believe the level of this agency's incompetence! Useless!" She wagged a dramatic finger in the air. "This entire agency is absolutely useless!"

With a righteous stomp of her foot, Gothel Wolfe, once the superhero Matahari and now an extremely agitated mother of a rebellious teenager, stormed out of the meeting room, seething and growling.

The young costumed girl standing by Mirage's side observed the scene with much amusement, saying to her mentor, "Well, good riddance."

The agent shot her a disapproving look. "Violet."

"What?" The girl jerked her head towards the path that the woman had gone down. "She's a horrid person. I hope she never comes back."

"Well, she's still an ex-superhero," the white-haired woman reminded her primly. "At the NSA, we're still obliged to protect her rights."

"Urgh." Behind her mask, Violet rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm glad that she doesn't want to be a hero anymore. She'd be an awful one." Though there was still heat her tone, her expression turned more sympathetic. "Poor Rapunzel. She doesn't deserve a mother like that."

"I suppose she doesn't," Mirage conceded despite herself, folding up her digital pad and sliding it under her arm. "But then again, the world isn't a very fair place. Good people have bad things happen to them and many times,-" she paused at the sight of her own reflection against the polished table, "-good things happen to bad people."

An alarm then sounded from Violet's wrist and she pulled back her glove to check on the screen.

"You should go and find out what happened," the older woman urged her mentee as they both exited the meeting room. "I'll come after I've settle some matters in my office."

Violet nodded, spinning around and darting down the corridor. The NSA agent herself went in the opposite direction, heels clacking against the polished boards as she made her way back to her office.

"You know," a voice hissed out of nowhere, "you are right about that. It's kind of odd, isn't it?"

Mirage did pause for a moment, but only to decide whether she wanted to take the longer route or the shorter, but more crowded route. In the end, she chose the longer one. She didn't want to squeeze past the other staff.

As she passed the windows of the dim-lit offices, she didn't notice the odd reflection that followed behind her. 'Odd' was not because the reflection wasn't anyway strange-looking. In fact, the cardigan sweater and brown pants spelt a rather unremarkable image for the young man. The odd part really was the fact that if she were to look over her shoulder right now, she wouldn't see the person that was being reflected against the glass panes.

"It's like some kind of reverse Karma, you know?" the person behind her – if he was a person and if he was really behind her – drawled out in a sardonic trail of thought. "Like good is paid with evil, and evil paid with good. You get what I mean?"

Mirage didn't answer him at all, because she honestly didn't notice his presence at all. She turned a corner and found her office. The door was already opened, so she stepped hastily and sat down by her desk.

Her tail didn't seem to mind her lack of response, entering the office himself and scanning it with a wry expression.

"It's strange, isn't it?" he mused aloud while she tapped against her desktop screen to start it up and proceeded to type something on her keypad. He leaned himself forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his knuckles, watching her. "One minute you were murdering these guys, and the next minute you're protecting their rights. Ironic, right?"

The white-haired woman only combed back her fringe before continuing her typing, not even shooting a glance his way.

"You might have gotten a pardon, but in my books, you're still guilty. You didn't pull the trigger, true, but,-" he straightened himself up, pushing himself to his full height "-you led them to their deaths."

Her mascara-lined eyelashes flicked up to the screen, down to her hands, expression unchanged.

"I can still hear their blood screaming out to me," he told at her, glaring at her with fire in his eyes. "I can hear the confusion, the agony, the suffering. What's worst – I can hear their families. There are people out there that lost their loved one and I can feel their grief. It's like-like-" he scrambled for analogy "-needles. Daggers. Moving in, out, -" he thumped a hand against his chest, demonstration the motion "-in, out, over and over. It's really irks me, you know?"

The NSA agent raised her hand to tap some commands on the screen. The printer on the side of the room rumbled to life as one of the sheets was sucked into the slot.

"I should probably kill you," he remarked, ignoring the added noise in the room because it didn't make a difference - she still couldn't hear him anyway. "You helped kill some very good people, you know that? You never paid those debts." He glanced down at the wooden calligraphy case that sat on her desk. It wasn't hers – she had confiscated it from the belongings of the photokinetic girl after they brought her in with cryokinetic alien last night. She probably didn't remember confiscating it, of course, but that was often the case with the people he hung around.

"Lucky for you," he said with sigh, when she rose to retrieve the sheet from the printing slot, "I've got enough on my plate now. I can't handle another fallout. The whole San Fransokyo thing was-" he scratched a nail along the table, frowning "-well, a big waste of time, if nothing else."

Mirage placed the printed sheet down on the table facing him, not making eye contact as she sat back behind the desk. He picked it up, scanning quickly and nodding. "Right. Could I get a ride too?"

She moved towards the communicator and began writing in the command into the screen.

"Preferably a guy," he added, flipping the page around, "about my height and weight. No bodily impediments please." He shuddered as he set it back down on the table. "Working with a broken arm is unnecessarily difficult." He paused while waiting her to write these details into the screen, then put in casually, "Oh, yeah. Someone with some measure of guilt would be nice. I realise that nice people can see me." He cast a dark look over his shoulder as he recalled the surprised response of the young brunette girl when she had noticed his presence. If he was lucky, she hadn't put two-and-two about who he was yet.

It took less than a minute for an agent of his height and build to arrive to Mirage's office, knocking on the side of her door.

"Come in," the woman beckoned and the summoned agent stepped in. Our mysterious character who had been haunting the backdrop unnecessarily also stepped aside, letting the agent approach the desk of his superior. Mirage got straight to the explanation, gesturing to the sheet, "I need you to collect a package from Dunbuoka. It's extremely urgent, so you have to set out at once."

"Noted," the agent said, taking the sheet in his hand and examining it. "What exactly is in the package?"

"Something small, valuable and possibly toxic, so handle with care," Mirage gave the vague answer in a smooth tone. "You'll need to go the Dunbroch Bank & Trust headquarters and present these authorisation signatures to retrieve it."

"I'll bringit here at once." The agent nodded.

"No." Mirage shook her head firmly. "Take it to Burgeshima. Oh, and one more thing?"

"M'am?"

"Take this too." She picked up the wooden calligraphy case and handed it to the confused agent. "You'll know what to do with it eventually."

"If you say so, m'am." With a nod, the subordinate marched out of the office with new purpose.

The shadowy figure watching in the background cast a glance at the departing figure, then back at Mirage. "If we do meet again," he told her – not that she responded more than she did before, "I'll probably have to kill you. But for now, thanks for your cooperation."

He then swerved on and out of the office, sprinting after the agent.

The white-haired woman sat typing at her desk. Then she suddenly stopped. Surprised, she glanced at her surroundings, then at the screen before her, then at the chair she was sitting in.

"What am I doing here?" she muttered to herself, astonished and bewildered. Shaking her head, Mirage rose from the seat, grabbing her digital pad and left the office, frowning in puzzlement all the way.

---

"She used to be in politics, but she was discovered to have some rather shifty agendas and has since then been blacklisted from the legal working world."

Merida let out a yawn, reclining herself back on the sofa.

"Now this over here is-" Hans was pointing to another photo, then noticed her palm being raised over her mouth, "-is another person you clearly don't care about."

Merida considered the statement and she had to concede.

Her redheaded babysitter looked at her with clear and utter disappointment as he closed the window on his laptop – the one showing the pictures of the various who's-whos that she was supposed to know. "You're not taking this seriously."

"It's boring," she defended herself, stifling another yawn in time. "I can't remember who's supposedly related to Nightmare Yakuza just because they made an umbrella that was used by the butler of the castle-thingy that's sitting smack in the middle of the city on prime Burgeshima land."

"You need to know these people," Hans urged her, pointing at his laptop for emphasis. "Haven't you heard me tell you how important this party is?"

"I know, I know." The girl's sapphire eyes rolled themselves. "The last thing I want to do is offend some big-time ganglord's best friend's cousin's sister-in-law, but-" she waved carelessly at herself "-I'm a teenager from another town. Can't I just be the irresponsible, uncultured, idiot adolescent who doesn't know anything?" She threw herself down on the cushions, making her curls fly over her head and bounce up and down like springs when she did.

Hans seemed like he was going to rebuke her, but a chime of the door to the suite rang out, cutting him off.

"Saved by the bell," Merida said a bit too cheerfully as she launched herself off the couch and strolled from the living room to the doorway. She undid the latch and opened the door to find…some kid with spiky black hair that she didn't know?

"Merida!" This random boy with way too much hair spray seemed absolutely delighted. "I was in town and I heard you were too, so I decided to come visit. Look, I've even brought Aunt Cass' pastry puffs. Tada!" He held up a plastic carrier that held a long cardboard box. "You should eat them while they're hot."

The redhead glanced down at this stranger and said plainly, "I have no idea who you are."

"Actually, you do," the boy contradicted, thrusting the plastic bag into her hand while lowering his voice, "but the last time we met, I was wearing a big purple helmet,-" he gestured at his head, using his hands to form the curves of imaginary headgear "-and you fainted."

Some pieces were starting to click in Merida's mind, because she retorted hotly, "I did [not ]faint."

"Sorry. You syncoped. Or went into syncope. I'm not actually sure if it's a verb or a noun." The boy was completely unapologetic as he pushed past her, leaving her carrying the box and staring at him in complete disbelief. She compared his scrawny figure with the wiry hero that had helped the night before and despite herself, she was starting to see some similarities. She wondered where his robot friend was.

"Is this your hotel room? Sick." The uninvited guest gawked admiringly at the pantry and kitchen, then headed down to the dining room and stared up at the mini-chandelier hanging off the painted ceiling. "Must cost hundreds to stay a night."

"Thousands, actually," a smooth, cordial, but subtly wary voice entered the dining room. Hans was now standing at the opening between the dining room and the living room, peering at the cheeky young invader with a sceptical expression. "Merida, who's this?"

The girl was at a loss of words. She only knew the boy by his hero name and she couldn't reveal that, or how she had come to know him. Fortunately, the black-haired lad of part-Asian descent had an answer prepared.

"Hiro Hamada," he introduced himself, sticking a skinny hand out, "you may have heard of me."

"I have, actually." Hans took the proffered hand with a smile, but Merida detected subtle hostility emanating of the young lawyer. "Robotics prodigy. Graduated from college at sixteen. Founder of the multimillionaire technology development company that specialises in cutting-edge medical science and clean energy."

"Wow." The black-haired boy was clearly impressed. "That was the first time anyone knew that much about me. I have to throw in, though, I h've technically graduated from the course,-" he made a face, "-I'm still in SFTI. Wanna finish my post-grad studies first."

"Side-by-side with running the company? Quite a balancing act," the elder man murmured politely.

"Well, I get lots of help." The humble words didn't match the cocky tone, and the redheaded girl frowned at the boy who stuck his hands into his short pockets. He then glanced at her and seemed to have recalled something. "Oh, yeah. Do you mind if I talk to Merida alone?"

Hans turned towards the girl, looking at her rather suspiciously. She shot back a puzzled look at him, but all he said was a wary – "Certainly."

Her babysitter then retreated from the dining room, but the level of privacy could use serious improvement. Hiro, for apparently that was the name of this mischievous, house-crashing cretin, whispered to her, "Do you have a place that's not-" he jerked a shoulder at the open door that led to the living room.

She thought briefly, then waved at him to follow her.

They ended up in her room, because it was the most private place in the suite that wasn't the bathroom, and because if he was here for why she thought he was here, she would need to show him something.

"Is that guy your brother or something?" Hiro asked as she shut the door. "Red hair must be pretty big in your family."

"He's not related to me," Merida answered at once, feeling a little jarred by the question.

"Oh." She could almost hear the gears turning in his head. "So, he's an apartment alone with you, so that would make him your-"

"Babysitter," the girl finished the sentence for him. "And he doesn't know about the Wisp, so you better shut your mouth about that." She jabbed a hard finger at him. "Got it?"

The boy called Hiro didn't seem daunted by her threat, squinting at her while rubbing his chin. "Why do you have babysitter?"

"My mother's fault. Long story. So-" she swiftly changed the topic "-did your phone battery run flat, or why didn't you just call?"

This lad, who was apparently a so 'up-there' prodigy of whatever, gaveher a withering look. "13 has our phones tapped."

"So?"

"Well, it's kind of counterproductive to be plotting against someone when they're eavesdropping, you think?" He placed his skinny hands on his hips.

She raised a brow at him. "You think 13's got Knight."

"Well, that seems rather obvious, doesn't it?" The way he talked sounded incredibly different from Jinketsu's voice-filter voice, but there was a familiarity in the rhythm and manner. "I didn't manage to update you yesterday, but Hiccup called in before he vanished."

This was news. "He did?"

"13 contacted him and arranged to meet him at some Hill place. He went into radio silence after that and we don't what happened to him."

Merida narrowed her eyes. "This … 'Hill place'. Was it a graveyard?"

Now it was Hiro's turn to look surprised. "Yes. Why?"

She turned away from him, moving to her cupboard and opening it up. The black feline that had been trapped there was pounced back into the light with glee, then hissed at her furiously.

"Toothless?" The visitor apparently knew the cat, and by how it twisted itself around and ran towards him, the cat too knew the visitor. Gently, Hiro picked the creature up his arms and began scratching the back of his head. To Merida, he asked, "Where did you find him?"

"At a graveyard," she told him while kicking a shoebox that had fallen out of the closet back in, then closed the cupboard doors forcefully. "I've been tracking down Knight. Hiccup. Whatshisname." Yeesh. No wonder the cat was called 'Toothless' of all things. It was like this kid from Berkazaki was infected by some kind of bad-name curse.

"You've been tracking Hiccup?" The lad sounded really astonished as he stroked the beast's fur. "But he's completely offline. He went to face 13 without any digital devices."

"What?" She scrunched her face up at that. She recealled that Knight had used quite a bit of technology during his fight with her. "Why?"

"He thought that 13 might be technopath. Don't know if he was right, because he vanished after that."

"Well, I don't need your fancy digital gizmos to track him." Merida went over to her back-pack, diving into the pockets to retrieve the half eaten cake folded inside the zip-lock.

Hiro glanced at the cake, then at her, completely confused.

Merida sighed before explaining, "This is a kind of magic cake. It allows you to see blue lights that lead you to your target - in this case, Hiccup."

Apparently, her explanation didn't really work, because Hiro was now studying her with a concerned and even a little shocked expression. Then he asked haltingly, "Are you under a lot of stress?"

"What?"

"I mean,-" he twiddled with his thumbs as he thought "-I'm starting to wonder if you've been consuming inappropriate substances that, well, make you see things?" He suddenly grabbed her arm, making her jump back. "You're too young to pick up these kinds of habits! Please!" His face suddenly warped into a comically pleading mien. "There are natural highs! You don't need to do this!"

Merida blinked at him, and then rubbed her temple. "Jings Crivens – I'm so close to punching you." Ripping his hand of her, she muttered plaintively, "C'mon, ye daft dunderheid."

It was her turn to grab him, but by the shoulder, though no less painfully. Blue light engulfed them and before he could protest, they were transported into a thicket of a forest.

"AHHHH!" The boy clutched the black cat with wide eyes, spinning around wildly, gaping glassy-eyed at the changed surroundings. Toothless didn't enjoy being treated as a stress ball and squirmed his way out of the frantic grasp, hopping onto the ground and shaking his fur. With his hands empty, Hiro clutched his chest and glared at her. "A little warning next time? You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Yeah, okay." Unrepentant, she opened the packet and removed a small piece of cake, thrusting it towards him. "Here. Eat it."

"What?" He eyed the cake as if it were poison – and as far as the flavour went, it did taste like it. "No. I'm not just going to eat random things just because you want me to."

"Just eat it, and I'll show you how I track Hiccup," she told him, not leaving room for argument.

The boy frowned at her.

"What?" She raised her brow at him. "You're just gon'na stand there staring or are you actually going to do something useful?"

Hiro took the proffered piece with a dubious face, then popped it into his mouth. At once, his countenance warped into one of revulsion, but a threatening look from Merida made him swallow it down.

"Urgh,-" he rubbed his throat, turning slightly green, "-that was disgusting. It's like eating rotten blueberries in soured yogurt."

"Yeah, okay." Merida was getting impatient with him. "Do you see anything strange?"

"Well, no, I don't see-" he stopped short, staring right over her shoulder.

Merida glanced in his direction of sight. "Is there a blue bob of light floating behind me?"

Dumbstruck and little petrified, the boy nodded.

"Good. See? Magic cake. Now-" she dragged him forward. The feline at their feet followed them closely, meowing curiously at the boy's expression "- just tell me where the blue lights are, and we can get going."

On hindsight, she supposed forcing some extremely expensive cake down the throat of person she'd just met (and had in a way saved her life) was not only rude, but also unwise. Since it would be a waste to consume more of the cake herself, she had to rely on his lead. Many times he would forget to tell her where the lights where leading, and other times he didn't seem to want to follow the lights, preferring to babble questions at her with anxious expressions.

"Are you seeing all this?" Hiro asked with wide eyes, waving his hands frenziedly in front of them as they moved out of the forested area into a large garden. Lovely stone paths brought them through finely-trimmed hedges and around lavish fountains. This must be part of a public park, or perhaps it was part of private property. The boy however was clearly not enjoying the view.

"No, because only the person who ate the cake can see it," Merida answered for what must have the fifth time. She heard an irritated mew from the cat scurrying in front of them and agreed with the sentiment. This guy took way too long. Next time, she was doing the leading.

"And these lights lead specifically to Hiccup?" He was clearly baffled. "How on Earth does that work?"

"Like I said," she replied again, very annoyed by now, "magic. Very expensive magic."

He sent a withering look her way. "Okay, this whole magic thing is getting a little old. What's the real mechanism?"

"Like I said, magic," she repeated with great emphasis. "Is it so hard to understand?"

"There isn't such thing as magic," Hiro scoffed, managing to stop himself from tripping over a small fence. "Everyone knows that. This isn't Harry Potter, you know."

"My powers do come from magic," Merida retorted fiercely, then forced herself to lower her voice. Who knows who else might be wandering in these parts? "Are you still following the lights?"

"Yeah, yeah." He brushed away her question, still absorbed in the present conversation. "What do you mean your powers come from magic? I thought you'd be, I don't know, born with them, or you'd acquired them in a freak accident."

"Well,-" her pace slowed as she challenged him"-were you born with powers? Did you acquire them in a freak accident?"

Hiro assessed her inquiry with a furrowed brow. "Well, no. I just use really advanced technology."

"And I use magic. Simple." It was her turn to go thoughtful. "Okay, I just put two and two on the advanced technology of Big Hero 6 and you being an inventor-prodigy-thingy together."

"You worked that all by yourself? Wow, you must be the prodigy," he said with a mocking grin that made it very tempting for her to pick him up and throw him in the fountain. His face suddenly turned serious. "Oh, my freak – are you a witch?"

"What?" Merida glanced down herself self-consciously, wondering if there was anything really that witch-like about herself. She compared herself to cranky old wood-carving sorceress who lived in the mystic forest with her talking crow and shuddered. "Goodness, no."

"Well, you do have red hair. In medieval Europe, they'd think you're a witch. Of course,-" he examined her with his lips pursed "-you have blue eyes, so you don't quite fit the bill."

"Well, that's good to know." Merida didn't mean it in the slightest, wondering how badly the Big Hero 6 would react if she gave their leader a bruise. Just a little one, you know, between his eyes.

"However, did you notice that your 'babysitter'-" Hiro was careful to emphasis the word in a slow, taunting tone "-has red hair and green eyes? I hate to say it but, -" he put on a fake expression of sympathy "-you've got a witch in your company."

She changed her mind. How about breaking all his teeth? That would keep him from using that irritating mouth of his.

Then suddenly, he was grabbing her arm again. She was this close to flipping him over her shoulder and tossing him over the hedge, but he hissed urgently, "Get down."

Both them crouched down immediately behind the nearby hedge, which happened to cut in the shape of a horse. The boy had scooped the cat back in his arms to keep it from wandering off, much to Toothless' dismay. Merida, a little perturbed by the anxious instruction, asked, "What is-?"

"Shhh!" He placed a finger over his lips, then pointed beyond the hedge with a worried expression.

Cautiously, the girl took a peep beyond the trimming and was flabbergasted that somehow or another, the garden had led them to a menacing looking metal gate. Stationed around it were several men in suits and she noticed that a good many of them bore arms. Swinging herself back into the safety of their hiding spot, she whispered to him, "What on Earth is this place?"

"Look beyond the gate," was all he replied.

Puzzled but intrigued, Merida peered around the grassy barrier once again, lifting her eyes up this time. Her eyes grew larger and larger as she traced the outlines of the fort walls and the tall black castle that sat behind it. Even as ignorant as she was, she had a good guess of what this place was.

Shifting back to her companion, she gasped, "This is the headquarters of-"

"-the Nightmare Yakuza," Hiro finished for grimly. He handed the cat to her then snuck a peek around the hedge himself, then pulled back to him, "I can see the blue lights going beyond the gate. They seem to moving towards the castle." Revelation dawned upon him. "So the Nightmare Yakuza has Hiccup, not 13."

"Well, not to brag, laddie, but I already knew that, I just didn't know how where they took him," Merida said without an inch of humility, grinning slightly. " Who's the prodigy now? Hmm?"

"Take us back to your room," Hiro murmured, clearly bothered enough by the idea not to respond to her jibe. "We need to plan for this."

Merida shrugged, then grabbed him by the shoulder. Blue flame swallowed them up and returned them to the luxurious, but messy, bedroom of her hotel suite.

"Okay," she said, watching him walk straight towards the vanity desk and sit himself down. There was some envelopes sitting down there, so he took one and an eye-liner pencil that he must have assumed was an ordinary piece of stationary. She noticed that he was starting to draw something on the paper. "What are you doing?"

"Try to make a plan," he answered, not stopping his scribbling. "Can you teleport into the castle?"

She nodded while setting the cat down. The beast still seemed much ruffled by the teleportation exercise and fled to hide in the closet. "But the place looks huge – I mean, really, really huge. He could be anywhere in it."

"We don't need to teleport to his exact location," Hiro said, still drawing on the sheet. "We just need to get inside there and use your … cake-magic-thingy, and we can find him. Right?"

"Yes, but how are we going to get past the hundreds of gangsters inside there?" she pointed out.

His pencil paused. "Good point."

"Also, if we go in there blind, we might end up walking straight into a trap, like Hiccup did," Merida pondered out loud. "He might even be heavily guarded, which would make this a lot harder."

"Not to mention if the Nightmare King's at home, we're probably dead meat," Hiro added. When he noticed Merida eyeing him oddly he defended himself, "What? He used to a big shot villain - fought off four superheroes by himself. Haven't you heard?"

"No, actually," was the girl's stiff reply, not liking how ignorant she sounded. She then caught sight of the pink dress that had been purchased from the boutique this morning and an idea struck her. "The party."

"What party?"

"There's supposed to be this big party tonight where a lot of important people in the Nightmare Yakuza are attending. I know, 'coz I'm going." She was pleased to find that she did know something he didn't. "Security will be tight, so they'll have to transfer lots of the guards over there. The castle should be a lot emptier."

"Good." Hiro made a final scrawl on the paper, lifting it up triumphantly. "I'll go to the castle at night."

"We?" She scowled at him. "This was my idea. I think I should be the one doing the rescuing."

"Didn't you say that you'll be at the party?" The boy jerked his thumb at the dress, pausing to critique it silently. After that was done, he returned his gaze to her. "I didn't think you'd be a pink person."

"I'm not." Merida shot a hateful glare at the frilly gown. "Anyway, I can find a way to sneak out. Like you said, you need me to teleport in."

"I have a robot that flies," Hiro told her plaintively, "I don't really need your help. You just go party and dance-" he shrugged carelessly "-and do whatever you rich girls usually do."

That was it! She had it with this little cocky eedjit that had come barging in to her home unannounced, potentially putting her secret identity at risk and now he was giving her orders? Merida marched straight up to him, grabbed him by the collar and lifted him entirely off the chair, making him yelp in shock. She pulled his face close to her own so that he could the fury written on every inch of her countenance.

"Listen close, yer bumbling piece o' jobby," she spat at him, slipping into the Wisp's Scottish accent unconsciously as she did. "Ah hae taken doon cratur five times yer size. Sae heaven be mah witness, 'huv a go at me again 'n' Ah wull pin ye naked lik' a kebab oan th' Statue o' Liberty!"

Then the knob turned and her bedroom door opened. The two teens immediately swung their heads towards the figure in the doorway, who was looking at the scene with an unreadable expression.

Merida let the scrawny boy go and he rapidly steadied himself on his feet. They stared at the Hans, and he stared back at them, and this went on for quite a while until they were interrupted by a soft, but obvious 'mew'. All heads then spun to the black feline hopping up onto the mattress. The creature didn't seem to notice that it was now the centre of attention.

Hans was the first the break the silence. "Where did the cat come from?"

"Err," Merida poured through possible stories that she could tell him: impulse adoption of a stray, found it climbing in the air vents, captured for a science experiment…

"It's a gift. I gave it to her." Of course, the annoying little squirt already had an answer. "Merida was just expressing her thanks to me."

"Really?" Her babysitter's gaze now rested on her, suspicious. "I never thought of you as a cat person."

"I didn't think I was one either until recently," was the girl's response, glaring at Hiro, who was, of course, smirking triumphantly away. Seeing that Hans wasn't quite convinced, Merida walked over to the bed and lifted the feline into her hairs, ignoring how the beast wriggled in her arms. Forcing a sweet smile, she said, "Thanks so much, Hiro."

"Anytime," the boy answered with a bit too much merriment.

Her babysitter, eventually persuaded that that was all the whole situation was, left them alone, but not pushing the bedroom door all the way closed and fixing it in place with the door stopper, eyeing the redhead girl meaningfully. When he vanished back down the corridor, Merida let out a long sigh of relief and tossed the cat onto the bed, making it yowl in shock. Toothless curled himself around and snarled at her, wagging his tail sharply.

"Well, I don't like you either." As childish as it was, Merida stuck her tongue out at the cat, who bristled it fur at her before proceeding to leap up to the headboard, perching itself on it like a bird. The girl then turned to the young hero, who was still scrawling away on the sheet. "You should go."

"Yep," he said putting the pencil down. Then he scrunched the envelope up in a ball, tossed it in the bin.

"Wait, did you just throw away your-" she darted up to the bin and unfolded the paper, only find that all that was on it were just unreadeable scribbles "-wait, what's all this?"

"Oh, just random doodles." Hiro shrugged. "I'm kinesthetic – need to move my hands when I think."

"O-kay." Merida scowled at him, throwing the paper ball back into the bin. "I'm so done with you. Get out."

"But I haven't even told you the-"

"I don't care." She swung around him and began to forcefully drag him out her room, through the suite. "And next time you want to talk, call."

"But you-know-who's listening-"

"You're the flippin' prodigy," was her exasperated response as she pulled the front door open, shoving him into the corridor. "You figure a way out."

Just as she prepared to slam the door in his face, Hiro suddenly stuck his foot in the gap, stopping her. "Wait."

A profanity-littered insult rested on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back when she saw his solemn expression. Glancing over his shoulder, he told her quietly, "Watch Toothless." Noting her confused appearance, he added, "If something happens to Hiccup, Toothless would be the first to know. Their bond is ridiculously deep. It's almost like-" he scrunched his face up "-magic."

Suddenly, her irritation melted as she noted hardness of his jaw and the stiffness of his posture. It occurred to her then that if they did not save Knight from the claws of the Nightmare Yakuza, it might very well be his end.

With a sobered mien, she nodded. "Okay."

Satisfied with the response, he removed his foot and let herclose the door. With her guest departed, she returned the living room where she noticed Hans watching her carefully. "What?"

He pursed his lips together, then asked, "How do you guys know each other?"

"School." Merida lied, moving over to the coffee table to help herself to the pastry puffs that Hiro had brought. As her teeth sank onto one of chocolate-covered ones, she was pleasantly surprised by the flood of soft cream filling her mouth. "Wow,-" her voice was a little muffled as she chewed "-this is really good."

"You go to an all girls' school."

She choked. Coughing and thumping her chest, Merida managed to down the half-chewed chunk, though her throat felt rather uncomfortable about it. Noting how Hans was still waiting expectantly for her explanation, she scrambled for another explanation. "Our schools are nearby."

"The nearest school to yours is a kindergarten," he pointed out mildly, brows rising in alarm. "Merida, he said himself that he's in college, and he's from San Fransokyo."

She wanted to slap herself for the error, but to cover up, she pulled her focus from the doughnut and narrowed her gaze at him. "How do you know so much about where my school is and its surrounding buildings?"

"I'm quite a thorough person when it comes to background checking my clients," Hans said smoothly, seating himself in the arm-chair opposite her.

"Oh? So I'm just a client to you?" Merida made a show of being offended, rolling her eyes and let out a strong huff. "I see."

"Don't try to change the topic." He drew himself closer to her, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hand together, every inch of him radiating gravity. In a softer, but definitely probing tone, he began, "Merida, be honest with me."

She tensed up immediately. Honesty – that was something she wasn't really the best at.

"Is there, well,-" his voice fell several decibels, as if he feared that someone might overhear "-is there something that you're hiding? Something that your mother should probably know about?"

Merida stared at him, the cogs in her minds jammed to an unexpected halt.

What should mothers know about their daughters? The number of times she had snuck out late at night committing illegal, though life-saving, activities? The number of criminals that she had put behind bars? The number of times she had been stabbed and shot, and had to bandage herself up before going to school and pretending to be perfectly okay?

There were a lot of things her mother should probably know, but will never know. As long as it was within her power, anyway.

Hans noticed her obvious lack of response, because he decided then to speak himself. "You know, I think it's okay."

She blinked, face scrunching up in confusion at the same time.

"I know that your mother has been pressuring you to find a suitable future-spouse," he went on, clearly mistaking her confusion for scepticism. "She made it pretty clear in all the emails she'd sent to me."

"She did?" Merida couldn't help the mouth hung open. Why on Earth was he bringing this up?

"It's still fairly standard practice for owners and CEOs of extremely wealthy and powerful corporations to match-make their children in hopes extending their connections and preserving affluence." Hans snorted, his shoulders relaxing as reclined into the polished leather. "It's not as in-your-face as it had been in the olden days, but it still happens."

"Yes," the girl agreed slowly, not too sure about where this was going.

"I understand that you have concerns that she won't approve of a relationship that you've initiated on your own and I don't know the boy well enough to know if she should, but in my opinion, it's fine."

Merida's eyes widened, the implications suddenly hitting her full force. "What?"

"You're young," he explained, still not registering the real reason of her shock. "You should be allowed some space to experiment with relationships. Just, um-" he paused for a second, as if thinking about how to phrase himself, "-don't get pregnant. I heard that it's very inconvenient for PR department whenever that happens."

"Excuse me?" She felt rather indignant about that.

"What am I saying? You're a smart girl," Hans sounded a little amused, like he was enjoying this very, very misplaced teasing. "You won't get into that kind of trouble. But bottom line is this-" he suddenly turned stern again, "-as long as your relationship is based on mutual consent, it's fine. Your mother shouldn't have the only say on it. Your own happiness matters too."

The girl absorbed what he had said with a quizzical face, pondering the costs and benefits of correcting his error – his extremely revolting error. Still, he had practically handed her an excuse for her odd behaviour, and it would make taking calls from the other young hero a lot easier around him.

Finally, she said, with a hidden edge in her voice, "Thanks?"

"No problem." He was already opening up his laptop again, presumably to return to work. "If you need any relationship advice, feel free to ask. I've been through lots of them."

She wasn't sure if she wanted to actually know more about that, so Merida grabbed the television remote and flipped the switch. Apparently she had left it on the local news network, and now it was playing the news report about a bombing of a cathedral. The girl shook back her curls and hunched forward in interest.

"In what can only be a terrorist attack, the casualties have been numerous," the reporter on the screen was almost yelling into his microphone. "The fire department has been working closely with the community volunteers to help the victims -" the camera swerved to show several fellows in dark suits checking on the ragged, frightened-looking people among the medical staff, which struck Merida as odd – by the suits, at least ["-but the cathedral, which was at least a hundred and twenty years old, is almost completely destroyed."]

The voiceover person took over as the camera panned over the blackened stone building, which was still smoldering after burning for almost forever. Merida thought that it resembled a giant chunk of charcoal more than a church building by now and she couldn't help but wonder who was responsible.

"Amongst the injured are members of clergy, security guards and ordinary citizens who had just happened to be there," the business-like tone read plainly as they showed an overhead shot of the scene. "One of them was a visiting reporter from Arenashi, who is best known to be a half of the team who published the viral video of an ice-powered vigilante, sparking alarm in the city that the criminal fugitive has returned towreakhavoc. Back to you, Tracy."

"Thank, you, Derek. Now, moving onto-"

"I have to go."

Before Merida could really register what was going on, her babysitter was folding his laptop back up and sliding it into his case. Tilting her head in surprise, she repeated, "Go? Where?"

"There's someone I need to check on," he said, glancing briefly at his phone while snapped the locks the case, closing it tight. "Don't worry, I'm still going to the party."

Despite herself, Merida felt a little of tension in her chest loosen. The polite part of her asked, "You want me to go with you?"

Her offer was met with shock, and by his expression, alarm as well. "Oh, no, you just stay here." He shook his head, picking his briefcase as he moved towards the exit of the suite. "You can manage a few hours by yourself, right?"

"Sure." She waved him away more carelessly than she really felt, making a show of changing the channel. Now a cooking show was playing on the screen.

"If you need anything, just call Maudie or myself," Hans said as he opened the door. He was doing his best not to show it, but he did seem a little anxious.

Merida nodded indulgently, rolling her eyes. "Yes, yes. I got all the numbers I need. I'm seventeen, not seven." She patted her mouth, giving off a false yawn and stretching her arms back. "You know what? I think I'll go take a nap."

"Good plan. You didn't get much sleep last night." He made a face as recalled the events had transpired, drawing the door shut after him. "I'll be back at six."

"Yeah, yeah, just go already," the girl urged, and finally, he did shut the door.

Then, it opened again and he stuck his head around, a wry expression appearing on his face. "Oh, if I see your young man on the way out, do you want me to send him back?"

"Can you just go?" Merida nearly bellowed at him. Really! Her and the twerp? HOW? Was he actually being serious?

Hans let out a hearty chuckle before finally closing the door, this time for real. Just to make sure, the girl leapt out of the couch and sprinted over, turning the lock. That would keep him out even if he wanted to come back, effectively earning her maybe an hour or two on her own.

She then returned to her bedroom, where her four poster king-size had become the resting spot of a tired and probably dirty cat. Catching sight of her from the corner of it eye, the feline gave a long meow, blinking its large emerald eyes at her.

"Come on, kitty." The cat made a displeasured purr at that title. Merida didn't care though, because beggars couldn't be choosers and she was immune the charms of cuteness. She grabbed her coat of the rack and slipped on, as well as throwing a solid pair of trousers. "Till Hiro gets back to us, why not we check out that fire for ourselves?"

The cat seemed to indicate that he preferred lolling around on the comfy coverlets.

"Well, I don't care about your opinion," the girl said, swinging a different colored coat over her shoulders this time. "C'mon now."

She scooped him up in her arms against his will. In a flash of blue, they were both gone.

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S/N:

Introducing Gothel! She's so fun to write. Making her have a post-hero career of being a theatre actress/singer was based on the voice-actress behind Gothel, Donna Murphy, herself. Donna Murphy did win a Tony Award (which is the theatre equivalent of an Oscar) for the Sondheim musical 'Passion', so yep – referenced to that.

Maximus the Motorcycle, mostly because I didn't want to make him like a dog or something.

In case there any confusion, the 'mysterious figure' who was tagging onto Mirage was the same person who Rapunzel saw after waking up in the NSA (Chap 20). You should be able to guess who he is. As for his secret identity and how he actually operates, well… the former is actually kinda revealed and the latter would be explored in the future.

Ah! The build up to 'the party'. It's gonna be…pretty big.

Up Next: Will Hiro and Merida save Hiccup in time? Will Rapunzel save Burgeshima from 13's frightful plot? What is 13's frightful plot? What's Tooth gonna do and will she succeed? Where's Jack? What is the fate of the Nightmare Yakuza?

And when am I going to update 'The Guardian Games: The Wrath of Five'?

These are all good questions that I will procrastinate on answering.

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A/N: Had some tight school days, hence the dry season on writing for a while. I hope this ridiculously long chapter would tide you, good reader, for a while while I struggle to take up the pen once again.

On a side note – has anyone seen the new preview on 'Tangled: Before Ever After'? It's a bit odd seeing CGI characters in hand-drawn style, but the animation is good and the script – man, everything Eugene says makes me smile. Ah - my OTP is Eugenzel for a reason.

If you enjoyed this chapter, I'll appreciate a review, but, eh, it's really up to you. So. Yeah.

Review. Critique. Ask Questions.