SAID UNDONE

.

One Day earlier.


| Shrike Amuna. Age: 15. Quirk: Palm-munition. Affiliation: K.I Academy |

I can't wait for this weekend. I feel exhausted, and I miss mom and Robin.

Sitting on the lawn outside the cafeteria, I wait for the guys to get their food and join up with me. Mr Conrad and some other teacher walk around the area keeping watch.

A bunch of Upper kids in their gym clothes play basketball in the outdoor court not that far away. They suck at it.

I turn over my shoulder when I feel someone's gaze falling on me, one of the Upper kids, lanky like a pole, with one expensive-looking hair job keeps looking over here, with stare each other down from a distance before I turn away and ignore him.

I look into the cafeteria through the large glass doors, and for some reason, my eyes fall on Lucy Bruden.

Perci sits with her back to me, across from her Kay. Lucy, who notices me staring. I give her a smile and she returns one, her golden hair framing it like a picture before she quickly looks back at her friends.

"Yo, Shrikey! What you staring at?" Sam yells as she settles down in the space next to me, clomping down in her heavy-looking yellow work boots that she wears all the time, in her uniform and loose-fitting tie.

Mago and Elan join sitting across from us on the grass, setting down their trays of food.

Sam stretches her neck to look where I was looking peaking her short triangular mohawk haircut.

"Oh god, please don't tell you've got a thing for plush, Shrike."

"Lame! Shrike, you suck." Mago says, his school shirt rolled up to his elbows, his exposed tattoos almost look shiny in the sunlight.

"Don't listen to them Shrike, it's nothing to be ashamed of." Elan chimes in.

His uniform completely form-fitting with how he's so tall and toned muscle like a pro athlete, short horns protruding from his head.

I shake my head at them all, "Would you guys shut up. I wasn't doing anything."

"It's plenty to be ashamed of, plush-dolls, Shrike, seriously? You and rainbow lights-just weird."

"I wasn't looking at her, okay, so shut up."

"Good, and don't look at Kay either," Sam replies, "'cause I call dibs."

Elan shuts his eyes hard like it could help him forget what he just heard.
"That's a human being, you can't call dibs on a human being."

"Yeah, except I just did," Sam juts out her chin, "do something about it."

"HA, you don't stand a chance." Mago laughs.

"Okay, you just wait," Sam replies, "I got a better chance than Shrike and little miss disco ball."

"For the last time—"

"I mean just imagine it!" Sam yells before talking in a really high pitched girly voice, "'oh Shrike, please help, I just farted confetti.'"

Mago joins in, "'Oh Shrike save me my fingernails are the wrong shade of fuchsia.'"

….

….

"'Fuchsia?' Mago." Sam says.

"I mean.." Mago rages, "Shut up you idiots! Quit staring at me!"

"It's crazy how far in the rankings she is with that power," Elan says, "I mean, she's really strong."

Sam scoffs, "I could take her." Sam says and everyone pauses for a beat.

Sam is pretty strong, with her Magnify quirk, anything that passes through the forcefield that forms when she makes a circle with her hands gets a massive amplification, the more fingers she connects, the bigger the magnification.

I'd say Sam ranks in the top five of the class in terms of raw power. But even knowing that—

"I think you'd have a tough time, Sam."

"Whoa, look at you defending her. Must be looove!"

Mago grunts. "Can't trust em', not a rotten one. Ain't nothin' in Upper 'cept lies and the mouths they come from."

"I don't like her, okay! Lay off."

"Yeah Elan, lay off you pushy jerk!" Sam says, flinging fries across to Elan"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sam shoves a finger into her nose, "I have more class than I know what do with."

We all laugh.

As much as I wish Perci was here, I completely understand why she'd rather hang out with Lucy and Kay instead on this bunch of hooligans.

The Upper kids, who were playing basketball finish their game and are walking by us to go in the building, we don't pay them any attention, but then that lanky bean pole kid walks by behind Elan's back, and whispers something.

"Yo, what you say!" Mago is the first one to stand up and walk the kid down.

"Mago, relax it's cool." Elan is quick to step between the two of them.

"You heard me you pack of losers." The lanky kid has the gall to say, his friends are smart enough to be terrified enough to stand far off.

Sam hops to her feet to their side, "Elan, sweetie, step out the way and let us handle this jerk."

"No, both of you, let it go."

There's a pause where no one does anything.

"Shrike?" Sam says, "what you want to do?"

I don't remember when but I've stood up, my palms open, staring daggers into this punk who thinks he could say something like that to my friend and live to tell the tale.

"Shrike," Elan looks at me with a message in his eyes.

I take a deep breath and close my palms, "Sam, Mago, let him go. He's not worth our time."

Mago lets go and the kid walks away, still staring daggers especially at Elan as if he doesn't owe his life to him. I remember that Mr Conrad was around, I glance around and it looks like he didn't notice anything, but somehow I highly doubt that.

"Lanny," Mago says coldly, "we should've smoked that prissy little dick."

"Yeah." Sam agrees, "he had it coming. You know he did."

"And how would you guys getting expelled for fighting help exactly, huh?" Elan asks, settling back down.

"Shrike, what do you think?" Sam asks.

Everybody is looking at me, waiting for my answer.

'Anthro.'

I think I hate that word.

I think if someone had said that to Perci or Robin, I would shoot them in the face.

I think Uppers have gone way too long without ever being taught respect.

I think—

"Shrike," Elan pulls my attention, "thanks." He says with a smile.

I face scrunches with confusion. I'm not sure what he's thanking me for. For calling off Mago and Sam? No, I think it's for what I'd do if he hadn't asked me to.

I nod in his direction, "I've got your back Elan."

Maybe the guys are right, maybe Lucy is getting to me because I almost forgot what people in Upper South are like. What they're all like, and the only thing they care about, themselves.

..||./..o..


..||.\..||..

Present Day.

| Lucy Bruden. Quirk: Solar Aurora, Affiliation: K.I Academy |

Robin Amuna.

Robin Amuna. As in Shrike Amuna. As in Shrike's little brother.

How? Why? What cruel, twisted, fate crazed world would put Shrike's little brother in that museum yesterday.

And not just his brother, remembering when, with surprise, Mago met me with the other Lower kids from school and spit out two words that made me feel like the worst person in the world.

'Where's Elan?'

How I am going to tell Shrike?

What will this mean for us?

The thought flashes out of my head and the selfishness of it makes me sick to my own stomach. Shrike just lost his brother and his friend I'm thinking of how it affects me. As if there even is an 'us'.

After being attended to at the hospital and panic and worry fuelled phone calls from Tristan, and Xander but strangely not from my parents. As my arm is put in a cast I watch the TV in the hospital room recap the events of the day.

Elan might have downplayed the severity of the runaway bus. It was doing of a hundred kilometers an hour in residential areas and refused to be stopped. It took almost all the city patrol cars and a dozen heroes to bring it to a stop.

And yet, that's not the most surprising thing about that incident, no, that would be the profile of the perpetrator who was eventually stopped and arrested.

The driver, 52 years old, a twenty-year career with the transit authority, three years off retirement with one complaint in his whole tenure; 'drove too slow in a school zone'. He had driven over sixty kilometers above the limit, swerving, often into oncoming traffic with passengers still on board. His motivation still unclear, as reports say he refuses to speak.

They're not clear on his motivations but it's obvious that it was meant to distract everyone from what was happening at the museum, even though for some reason, the news is treating it as two completely separate events.

The incident in the museum is being reported as a small terror group from the City of Orm, about an hour away from us, who got somehow managed to disable the museum security features, the bus thing distracting the police and heroes just poor timing coupled with the fact that they never received an alert that the museum was under distress.

Bad luck? Really, that's what they're claiming. There's so much information being left out it's crazy.

Unfortunately, Vasagona was able to escape. Which is troubling... for several reasons.

I'm allowed to leave to my dorm where I can be monitored by the school's medics. I am given a shot of something that actually makes me feel hyper and more awake for some reason.

The day turns to evening and after only a little bit of rest and refreshing, I get dressed in a light tee-shirt with Dad's picture on it in his hero costume and sweat pants. Tying my hair up is really difficult with on hand I give up on it, and a scruffy gold blonde curtain frames my face, and I'm afraid the patent strong Bruden jawline might be a little rounded out from swelling. My whole body feels sore.

Even though we gave a report at the hospital, Mandy and I are asked to the school main office. I meet Mandy at the bottom of the stairs, her usual well maintained tall afro looks flaky and she's in a big grey hoodie that almost covers her whole body, looking a little rough.

"Don't," Mandy raises a hand leading the way, "don't say a word. I feel as bad you look."

I follow close behind, "Well, then I'm pretty sure I'm still one up on you."

...

We reach the main office and are met by two agents of the highest security force of the Statedom. Mr Conrad is there too, but is politely asked to leave.

The agents are from the highest secured building in the country, the Defence Palace. A large pyramid-shaped building where all the highest level... everything, is kept and done.

Dressed in long black suits dark sunglasses above their faces, their head all shaved bald. For the most part, each one is completely indistinguishable from another, which must be important for some reason.

I suppose the coats are to hide anything that could hint at their quirks. They fill the room with a really intimidating pressure as Mandy and I sit in two chairs across from theirs, me cradling my cast arm.

One of them sits down and out of nowhere pulls out a notepad and pen, a thick scar that starts from the top of his forehead all the way across his face to the corner of his lip. The other stands at the end of the table that separates us, he doesn't have anything distinguishable, but unless I'm wrong, it looks like his eyes are glowing behind his sunglasses.

"Good evening, ladies," the scarred detective says in a low monotone voice while the other watches, towering over us, and I think I now know what it's like to be a mouse in the shadow of a hawk.

"I'm sure this is very difficult for you, you've certainly been through a lot, so we'll make this quick and allow you to get back to your rest."

We go over the events that happened. The museum was searched head to toe, it seems one of the masked guards had a teleportation quirk which is how they were getting out, and we're told the final number of people unaccounted for.

61.

Which apparently actually isn't that much. In fact, all things considered, the day wasn't as massive a tragedy as we all initially thought. Given at the time there were numbered to be 2,132 people inside the museum. Sixty-one people missing amounts to less than three percent. Mandy and I are praised for our efforts.

Besides the broken wall, and fallen statues and sculptures, there was barely any property damage. Nothing was even stolen.

In fact, it would seem that overall the feeling in the city is fairly upbeat, even celebratory, seeing as the heroes managed to settle everything and most people went home to their families without injury.

They ask for any information that might be useful. I do my best to remember everything and anything. I remember what they called him when I was almost caught, it was—

"Vasagona."

The name leaves my mouth and I watch as the room gets tenser.

"And you're sure, that's the name you heard?"

I nod.

That's weird. I mean, even if they recognize the name, wouldn't they have already known who it was just by his quirk.

"Do you already know who that is?" Mandy asks, "Is that a famous villain or something?"

"No," the agent says from across from us, "I'd say that's a new name to add to the database, but thank you for letting us know. Is there anything else?"

We tell them about everything we can remember, I tell them about the yellow smoke they tried to give me and he scribbles it down but doesn't ask anything about it.

"I didn't see anything on the news about the Sleeper Cell." Mandy says.

The two men share a look, "I'm sorry, 'Sleeper Cell'?"

"Well, yeah, they were museum security guards who were helping Vasagona." Mandy answers.

They stay quiet and I slowly turn to look at Mandy who looks like she's just as weirded out by all this as I am. I mean, shouldn't they know all this already?

"I'm sure you're in shock, still very afraid, but I'd say Sleeper Cell is a very provocative term to use, accomplices, is what you really mean. Sleeper Cell implies a much larger organization that was this is."

"It's not like we were the ones who came up with it, okay! Bud was the one who said it!" Mandy yells.

"Bud? And who is Bud, exactly?" he leans forward, the other coming to lean over me, and suddenly I feel mounting pressure.

"He's—"

"One of the men who got arrested," I quickly interject, "Sleeper Cell is the word he used."

"I see."

"Have they been questioned yet, are they cooperating?" I don't know if we'd be allowed to know, but I'm more curious to find out if my lie is going to be exposed.

"No, unfortunately, they refuse to speak a word. They haven't opened their mouths once."

That's not good news.

"Will my father be involved in the investigation?"

"Only select things are allowed in and out of the Royal Palace, information included. Should the Chief Ministers deem the situation critical enough, both the number one hero and His Majesty will be informed," the agent flips his notepad close, apparently satisfied, "Until then we will work with the relevant heroes until your father returns."

"Oh," That must be why Dad didn't call. He doesn't know yet.

"But this is critical enough, isn't it?" Mandy asks

The agent rises to his feet, "Not for us to say."

"But-"

"Don't worry little ones," The agent who stayed silent this whole time finally speaks, "You've done excellent work today. You are free to go. Now it's time to let the professionals do their jobs."

Mandy and I get up and before we leave I look back and the detective, my mind racing with thoughts and new fears.

I try to look at his eyes through his sunglasses. "Was all of this really orchestrated by a 'small guerilla terror group'?"

"That's what was on the news, wasn't it?" He asks genuinely as if we were just two people on the street having a casual chat, "why, do you have another theory?"

"No," I answer, "I don't."

We're dismissed and Mandy and I walk through the building back towards the dorms.

"Blondie, do you intend to tell me why we just perjured ourselves to the authorities?" Mandy begins as we walk down the fluorescent lit school hallway.

I look back and make sure nobody is watching us, then guide her around the corner, leaning against the wall so we can talk.

I lean my head to look back where we came, "Mandy, do you remember what Bud said about the alarm system requiring his ID in order to be disabled?"

"Yeah, and the villains probably had something prepared to bypass it."

The two agents come out of the office and one looks this way and I quickly pull back and hide.

I go down to my knee to speak to Mandy more quietly, "Except according to Bud, the alarm had been activated and was working exactly how to should, he just wasn't getting a response."

"Okay, so what? It was probably hacked into and made to look like it would be working."

Except what would be the point of that?

"Maybe, or maybe the alarms actually were working, maybe they went off just like they were supposed to and that's what Bud was seeing."

"Blondie, if that's what happened then why weren't any of the heroes or police alerted."

"Bud said that the alarms navigate through channels monitored and controlled from the Defence Palace."

"Yeah, and?"

"Think about it, the museum was only recently privatized, and the men there we're all employed but the State before that," I look her squarely in the eyes, "including the Sleeper Cell."

Mandy's brow goes tight in thought. "I don't underst—" Her eyes go wide with fear, "Lucy, that's impossible!"

"Shhh! Keep your voice down."

Mandy runs her hands over her head and through her hair like she just wants this day to end, and I understand the feeling, so much, but they're just too many things not adding up.

Dad keeps track of all potential threats in the Upper South, and though I might not remember his name, I distinctly recall that the leader of that guerrilla group led a quirkless militia. Then there's the old bus driver who also refuses to talk, and his obvious connection to the museum incident. Plus Vasagona being able to escape when the place should have been surrounded.

I lean my head slowly around the corner just far enough for my eye to see and I watch the two agents standing in the hall, talking to each other, too silent to be heard.

I keep watching, my vision narrowing in on the quiet one, with the glowing eyes, and on his face. I watch him intently as he speaks to his partner and I see when his lips mouth the words...

'she knows.'

He looks over this way again and I pull back quickly.

"You're trying to say..." Mandy begins with a sigh, "that there are Sleepers agents embedded in the Defence Palace."

I'm silent when Mandy I meet eyes, in them, a mutual fear.

'Your generation...' I remember Bud saying, '...is the only one that can be trusted.'

...

I sit in my room, alone, at my desk. Pain keeps me awake a headache pounding in my skull. I'm staring at the list of missing people.

So many names.

Robin Amuna. Age 6. Quirk: Mutation-Latent; Feathers.

Elan Tamanga. Age 15. Quirk: Mutation; Antelope.

I sigh into the night. I didn't even think of Perci. Robin was probably as much a little brother to her as he was to Shrike.

"Oh gosh." I think I'm actually going to be sick. How could this have happened?

I read the next name on the list. Then the next and… What the?

Name: .. Age 18: Quirk: Mutation...
Name: .. Age 12: Quirk: Mutation-latent

...Quirk: Emitter...
... Quirk: Mutation...
... Quirk: Mutation...

"Oh no..."

I run down the rest of the list then flip it over to the next page, scrolling down as fast as my eyes will let me.

"No, no no." This isn't good.

There are a few variants, but too few for it to not be obvious.

Besides them all being particularly young, the overwhelming majority of the people missing have mutant quirks, which more than likely means, they're from the Lower South.

I shut my eyes tight and try to think back, and more things are being cleared up, but only to reveal more questions.

This is why the final number was so low. It wasn't because of anything we did, they were being selective. Why they were ready to walk over me.

But why, why, why? There are too many things happening all at once.

I bury my head in my good arm on top of the desk, wishing this day would just end. My mind aching with questions, but one thing I know for sure, tensions with the Lower South just got a lot worse.

I take a deep breath, I feel tears sting my eyes, and consciousness slip from my grasp.

.

| Lucy Bruden. Quirk: Solar Aurora, Affiliation: K.I Academy |