Chapter Fourteen

"So, I've been… wondering." Trickster glanced down at the piece of paper in my hand as we jogged forward.

It was one of the more intact pictures. Even had a clear image of the interior of some person's living room, though a bit stylized. "Uh huh?"

"What is your power? It's just, I've never seen anything like it. If you could like-" The parahuman winced before his question could even leave his lips.

"If you're wondering what my weaknesses are, then it's pointless to ask, no matter how roundabout the question." I didn't elaborate further. Krouse was in my peripheral vision, so I couldn't see him that well, but I was sure he was fuming. "Anyway, we're here."

Slowing my jog to a halt, I observed the storefront. It was a standard convenience store. The kind that was of moderate size and likely would've been fairly crowded if it weren't for the fact it was a weekday morning.

"Any signs of other people? I haven't heard anything on the way here." I peeked into the shattered window as Trickster checked the door.

"Nothing. Either this area was evacuated first, or…" The ex-leader trailed off as the door fell off its hinges with a loud bang.

Of course, I doubted anyone had heard the noise, seeing as there were still occasional shouts and explosions at least half a mile away. Didn't make the scene any less eerie.

"That's one way to make an entrance. Try calling your colleagues again. Maybe we'll hear the ringtone." While I was optimistic on the two's chances of survival, I was curious as to where they'd hide in a place like this.

We stepped into the building and split up. The inside was relatively clean. Almost as though it didn't look like a warzone outside. Fluorescent lights allowed easy searching and there weren't many places to search.

Nobody was hiding under the cash registers. Nor the back of the refrigeration area. Not even the manager's office was touched. Well, not until I procured a few valuables.

Several minutes later we reconvened at the cash register closest to the door.

"Find anything?"

Trickster held back a sigh, his fists clenching. "Nothing."

I awkwardly took a seat on the conveyor next to the register as the parahuman stewed in frustration. Pondering, I tried to figure out what went wrong.

"If I had to guess, the two likely made it out of here beforehand. Either evacuated by law enforcement, or through another opportunity, judging by the lack of obvious struggle. Maybe they made it back to the apartment, but that's not very probable." Krouse slowly released his fists as his shoulders slacked. I wasn't too sure what he was so worried about, but that frustration would be a pain to deal with if it festered.

The ex-leader shook his head to an internal thought before facing me. "Alright. I guess-"

His words were cut off when the ceiling exploded.

Not the entire ceiling. More like, an area big enough to fit two people. So it only made sense that two people crashed through the hole onto the tiled floor with a weighty thud.

Not immediately ducking (like I should have) in the face of two unknown parahumans, I took my time to observe the two as they recovered.

Both were women. The one who landed first was covered in thick, tightly bound cloth from head to toe. Her head was covered by a concealing cowl that only revealed her eyes, mouth, and chin. Her costume was in poor condition. Tattered and covered in blood—I could see an assortment of bladed weapons barely hidden by the fabric.

The other parahuman was in far better condition. She stood tall, a good several inches above the other fighter, and wore the typical Teeth attire. In her hand was a sizable bow that eclipsed her own height. There was an itching sense of familiarity as I examined her…

"Get down Fiction!" I was rudely pulled down just as the two exploded into action. Quite literally.

Landing on my back, I caught a glimpse of Krouse's conflicted expression as he let go of my coat. A stray speeding knife sunk into the exit, forcing us to take cover behind the register booth.

Trickster pressed against our cover, his face nearly as pale as he would have been if the knife hit him. His eyes wildly searched the room as he felt his own person for objects. I, on the other hand, went back to brainstorming. Taking a page out of Trickster's book, I reached into my own pockets for anything helpful against what I assumed to be the Butcher.

Grasping the first thing I touched, I pulled out the creased piece of paper from earlier. I stared at it. Then stared a little bit longer as an idea took hold. Tearing my gaze away from the picture, I nudged my associate.

"Hey, get me a pen or pencil. Or any sort of writing utensil." Krouse's eyebrows scrunched, deforming the cheap domino mask. Ignoring his confusion, I nudged him again. "Hurry!"

Pulling out one of those old phones with the slide-out keyboard, Trickster ported the device for a ballpoint pen and a magazine. Snatching the pen from his grasp, I began to draw.

Occasionally, I had to peak up to get a better look at the details, but I tried to avoid doing so. It felt like an eternity, but I finally added the last touches to the figure. Once I dropped the pen, something clicked.

Jumping to my feet, I pivoted on my heels to find the target. However, there was only one person there.

The woman in tattered clothes swayed on her feet as she stared at a large puddle of ink.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I let myself relax knowing I wouldn't have to actually fight the Butcher. The power was very strange, and I didn't want to test if I could subvert its unique ability.

At the sound of the air leaving my lungs, the woman's head jerked to face me. But rather than joy, or exhaustion, her eyes bore that of fury. Her voice was quiet, barely a mutter.

"You…"

With agility and speed unbefitting of her injured body, the parahuman leapt on top of me, forcing me to the floor. Blood dripped from her hood onto my mask as she snarled with dagger in hand.

"You took my kill!"