Chapter 1: Interregnum

The City of Townsville. Downtown. Louis Street. Joe's Pawnshop.

2 FEB 1989 (Thursday). 2017.

Deep within the city center, Townsville continued pulsing with activity. Cars roared down the highway and honked on the road whenever there was a jam. The citizens of Townsville strolled at their leisure on the sidewalks that stretched into the distance. Buskers played one genre of music or another, in exchange for a coin or note from one kind stranger or another. Restaurants and bars were wild with laughter and various sorts of entertainment. Trains swooped through tunnels, screaming from station to station, unimpeded.

In any other city, this would have been considered normal. In Townsville, it was a blessing. For the first time in two decades, the people of Townsville could go about their business without the oppressive fear of crime. The song of the city, for the first time in a generation, did not contain explosions and gunshots and terrified screams every other day.

Crime had taken a nosedive ever since the new year, and it was as if the city had, collectively, decided to act on its new year resolution. Official statistics from the police indicated a 60% drop in major crimes, including the activities of organized crime, and 55% in minor offenses in January compared to previous months. But everyone knew who to thank - not that they had a name for them yet. Most refer to them as The Three, though bad memories had diminished the popularity of that name. A new cult which had sprung up in the city had christened them The New Trinity. Some among the numbers of both cultists and regular citizens alike had taken to calling them the Angels of Justice. The USDO was being pressured to give an official name, but most knew to call them Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup, and most citizens by now knew which was which.

The USDO had gotten in on the act, claiming responsibility for some of the Girls' reputation. Their new media wing had been blasting out articles and advertisements to improve public relations, some of which involved the Girls. For a few times in January, they had to attend photo and video shoots.

Further away from the city center, Townsville's downtown area was quieter, but just as safe(r). At Louis Street, for instance, there was almost no activity as it was known to be a commercial street, with rows of convenience stores, grocers, bookshops and a rather successful pawnshop, all of which had closed for the night, as it was the tradition of that locale.

The night was quiet until it wasn't… When a masked man fell from the roof of Joe's Pawnshop and onto a car below, screaming for his life until the crunch of windshield breaking and metal bending took over. An alarm sounded throughout the pawnshop, however, drowning out the noise inside the building.

"Isn't Johnny supposed to deactivate the alarms from the rooftop?" a robber in a ski mask hiding behind a counter said. He had a revolver in his hand, and he was on the lookout for his friend, another thug in a ski mask, hunched over a safe as he was turning the dial.

"Don't matter. I know the code to Joe's safe," the safe-cracking robber said. "Poor schmuck's too trusting of me. We'll be gone in a minute."

"Where the hell's Johnny anyway? Shouldn't he be down here by now with Joe's stash?" another robber at a display asked. He went on to smash the glass, before greedily scooping up jewelry and expensive watches up and depositing them into a camping backpack.

"Man, I don't like this," a fourth robber said as he was packing antiques into a burlap sack on the opposite end of the shop from the jewelry-stashing robber. "What if them Threes are here?"

"Ain't no chance of that," the first robber said. "There's three of them and one big city. We stand a bigger chance of hitting the jackpot on the Townsville lottery than runnin' into them."

"Things still don't feel right, man," the fourth robber said. The first robber, who was the leader, scoffed with annoyance at his doubtful co-conspirator.

"That right? Then why don't you guard the door and make it feel right," the robber leader ordered, before feeling his annoyance double when the alarm was still ringing and the fifth member of his crew was still missing. "And where the fuck is Johnny!?"

That was when the glass doors of Joe's Pawnshop shattered as if spontaneously, and the fourth robber, who was moving to guard the door, was sent flying across the shop and behind the counter, ruining the shelves mounted on the wall and landing next to the safecracking robber there, who had just hit the jackpot when the safe was opened. He didn't wake up after his flight across the pawnshop.

It was dark, but they could see the silhouette of a small being floating, then landing on the floor, and it was no bigger than a very young child. What wasn't very normal was the piercing eyes glowing in the dark, glowing fiercely pink, sending shivers down the spine of all the robbers who had turned to look. Those who hadn't had a gun or weapon in their hands drew them.

"Your friend couldn't make it," the small being said. "I think my sister dropped him too hard." If nothing else, it sounded sincere and nice, given the circumstances. "Put the guns down and I'll go easy on the rest of you."

"It's t-t-t-the-" the jewelry robber couldn't even finish his sentence - the rest of his body, too, was as frozen as his mouth. His double-barrelled hunting shotgun shook in his hands. The robber leader, however, was a little more daring. "T-three!" The stuttering robber finally managed.

"I count only one," the robber leader said, then pointed his revolver at the glowing pink eyes, which were already burning holes into his mind. It took his all to resist the fear the eyes were put in him, but he would be remembering those eyes for the rest of his life. "You know, I doubt you're as good as they say." He cocked his revolver. "The guys on top sure love to spin stories to keep us bottom folks in line. I bet you're not exactly bulletproof."

"There's actually the three of us," Blossom corrected the robber leader, and as soon as she did, a baby blue streak of light entered the shop, followed by a light green equivalent. Two more silhouettes stood before the display windows of the shop. A pair of light blue glowing eyes and light green glowing eyes flanked the pink ones after that.

The light was flicked on - the safe cracking robber had done it, thinking that things would look better in the light. It didn't.

The light had only revealed the owners of the three pairs of eyes in their fullest glory. Blossom stood at the center, her arms akimbo. Her uniform had changed over the past month, incorporating a red skirt over her fatigue pants, topped by her usual red military fatigue top. Her SWAT armor was now issued in black, the same as her sisters. She had stopped using a helmet and a pair of combat goggles a long time ago. Her fiery orange hair flowed down her back, crowned by a red bow, now back in its original position, as opposed to being taped playfully to the back of a helmet.

Bubbles stood on Blossom's left. Owing to the rule that she would always break out in cold sweat whenever there was action, she had opted to get rid of her fatigue top for comfort, coming only with a tank top underneath her SWAT armor. She had even removed the upper arms of her armor for greater comfort. Like Blossom, her helmet and goggles were gone - all the better to air her head… and her well-brushed hair, which hung in pigtails falling on either side of her head.

Buttercup stood on Blossom's right, her arms folded. She had grown fond of her soldier outfit and removed nothing from it except the restrictive helmet. She was the only one of The Three who came with more than just a pistol. Blossom might have disallowed her from bringing her Stoner Light Machinegun along, but on Buttercup's back hung her tried-and-true MP5 submachinegun. Not that the toughest of The Three required it. Smiling maniacally at the robbers, she thought, in fact, that they were slim pickings. Hardly a challenge to warrant the use of a firearm. She didn't want to have to clean it at home.

"Shoot them!" the robber leader screamed, his voice a little high-pitched than normal.

"Bubbles, shotgun! Buttercup, with me!" Blossom ordered before flying towards the robber leader, reaching him in a blink of the eye. Buttercup followed and winded up a punch along the way before delivering it at the safe cracking robber. It sent him hurtling into a shelf of candies and cookies.

Bubbles zipped towards the third robber with the shotgun, but he was quicker with his hands, as terrified as he was. He fired a double shot, which made Bubbles' flinch and blink, but the shots went overhead, with some pellets sliding past her hair, messing them up. Jumping up at him, she sent him to the ceiling with an upper-cut in a panic, before regretting it and catching him as gravity sent him plummeting to the ground. Her heart was racing – old fears had been exhumed and given new life.

Blossom made for the robber leader's revolver. He was able to fire a single round before he could feel the enhanced little girl's small hand wrapping around the barrel. While standing on the counter, she pulled the robber out from his hiding spot and threw him out, sending him tumbling at the center of the shop, minus his revolver, which Blossom had torn from his hands. With her enhanced dexterity, she field-stripped the weapon on the spot within seconds, pulling it apart and dropping the various components all around as she did.

Turning around, she jumped off the counter and calmly walked up to the robber, who was petrified by the whole ordeal and couldn't even so much as sit up – though it was just as well that he didn't dare as it would have warranted a kick from Blossom.

Without a word, she pelted the robber leader's face with the bullet he'd fired into her hand with an annoyed frown, and just as he stared at her in disbelief – realizing that she was bulletproof after all – she knocked him out with a kick to the face.

"I just hate getting shot at," Blossom quipped before examining her hand. There was a hole in her glove, but she thought it would be good for another firefight or two. She did hate to waste. Turning around, she had to check on her sisters. Buttercup was just about prepared to throw in her share of the casualties - which she did by dragging him over the counter like how a cat would drag a carcass before tossing him down next to the robber leader.

"That was too easy," Buttercup boasted. "Can I kill him though?"

Blossom folded her arms and glared at her wayward sister. Although Buttercup had been obedient over the past month and killed no one (as far as she knew), she would not brook any unnecessary deaths even with the criminals, nor challenges to her policy.

"I was just kidding, Blossom," Buttercup said, and on feeling a facial tic coming on from the blood drought as of late, cracked her best smile to hide it and deceive her sister. It wasn't the kind of smile to win the crowds. Blossom knew her best, and though Buttercup was the best among the three at deception, could detect that the smile was not genuine. "Why so serious?"

Blossom rolled her eyes at Buttercup before turning to Bubbles, who was leaning against the wall. Her hair was a mess, with some strands loose from her right pigtail – and Blossom knew Bubbles very well. Just like her, she had developed some obsession with her hair. She knew that something was off when she didn't put it right post-combat.

The pink-eyed girl came up to her shaken sister. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting a concerned hand on her shoulder. Bubbles looked up at her and smiled, her lips trembling.

"I'm fine," Bubbles said, even though she wasn't. She didn't want to go back to a time over a month ago when she was the team let-down, the 'coward' and the 'useless' one, as Buttercup would put it every so often. Inside, however, she was a mess. Her heart was just about ready to press the eject button, and memories of before kept flashing before her eyes. The first time she was shot – and knocked out – with a shotgun. Getting the lead pellets again at a Lombardi warehouse front. Or even eating a bullet literally when General Blackwater thought her to be a deserter and betrayer of her sisters. She had used a shotgun once, only to end up causing a stampede that injured many at a protest in front of the USDO headquarters.

Just then, a large convoy of police cruisers and SWAT vans drove up to the pawn shop front. The USDO – the United States Defence Organization – had a presence as well, though it was small compared to the Townsville Police Department whom they had partnered with to keep the city safe and relatively free of crime.

SWAT officers and USDO soldiers poured out of their vans and Humvees respectively, as police officers and security officers took up static positions behind their cruisers. It was all unnecessary with crime in the city having dwindled to more than half of what it used to be, but both law enforcement agencies were too stubborn to adjust after so many years of urban warfare and too many veterans among their ranks.

The Girls came forward to greet the men coming in to clean up; a team of SWAT officers and a squad of USDO soldiers, followed by a pair of plainclothes who brought a smile to their faces. Detective Mullens, recently promoted to lieutenant, as well as his daughter and assistant, Officer Olivia, recently made a detective.

"Hello, Girls," the older detective greeted.

"Hello, Mister Mullens," the Girls returned the greeting with toothy smiles, in unison. The old detective was smiling, but it soon became less than genuine when the Girls replied the way they did. He was still unused to the way the Girls seemed to sync their actions and words at times.

"Did you see us beat up the bad guys?" Buttercup asked in anticipation, seeking approval, which was the next best thing.

"We saw the guy outside alright," Detective Mullens said. "Hell of a welcome sign to put up."

"Oh no! Is he okay?" Bubbles gasped after remembering the robber Buttercup 'dropped', or more accurately, tossed from the ceiling.

"He'll be fine. Just a few broken bones, at least," Olivia said. "Okay, maybe more than a few, but he's breathing and stable."

Blossom turned to glare at Buttercup again, and all the green-eyed Angel of Justice could do was to flash a guilty smile back at Blossom. At the same time, it was more of a victory smile – Buttercup did not kill a man, but she got to do a bit of damage at least, even if it was just a drop of blood next to the blood bath she wanted.

"Mister Mullens?" Blossom said.

"Yeah?" the detective replied as he was watching the pawn shop robbers getting cuffs slapped on their wrists by over-prepared and overzealous SWAT cops. There were over ten of them surrounding the half-conscious robbers, with their heavy weapons pointed at them, like wolves.

"When will we get to work together again?" Blossom asked, her words oozing longing. Detective Mullens had been her friend, but they hadn't been seeing much of each other lately. She actually felt lucky to have met him so early in February when she had only seen him thrice in January – twice on raids that turned up little and once when they weren't even out fighting crime. They had actually met over milkshakes in a milk bar just to catch up, which meant that the detective was afraid of losing touch with the Girls, the greatest law enforcement asset Townsville could ever have. "I miss having you around."

"Soon, I hope," Detective Mullens said as he studied Blossom's face. He couldn't believe they were friends, after everything – considering how he had treated her poorly when they first met. Hell, they hadn't exactly worked together for very long either. There were few fellow badges he could consider his blood brothers and sisters, and he'd worked with them for years, in some cases decades, even. And half of them were busy working in their new office six feet under. Blossom was still a new kid around the block – literally – but she and her sisters' impact on Townsville couldn't be underestimated. "Bottom feeders' been running scared, and when rats are afraid, they hide pretty well. Even the big ones. Especially the cradle-burnin' big ones. Makes it hard for me to build my case and take down the big fish."

"Why not just look for them?" Buttercup suggested. "And when we find them, SMASH!" Buttercup slammed her fist into her palm with a slightly demented smile on her face, barely repressed. It was another thing that the detective found he couldn't get used to. It was no secret that there was something… off with the green one. She was the talk of the Townsville Police Department, and it was little wonder when the crime scenes she left behind back in the day tended to be… messy. The fact that that had stopped recently was an even bigger wonder.

"It's not that simple, Buttercup," the detective said, unsure of how to explain police work to the Girls. Despite being incredibly effective as heavy hitters for a trio so small, inexperienced and out-of-place, Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were effectively grunts – he figured out that from the way the USDO handled them, the Girls hardly knew about the facts and stories surrounding their battles. It was dangerous, but it'd worked so far. "But this is not forever. There's a reason why they're hiding. They're preparing for something big. I know it. I just hope I- we can beat them to the draw."

And as he said this, he felt a hand slipping into his. He looked down to see that it was Bubbles, who looked like she certainly didn't like the idea of crime starting up big time again. The past month had been heavenly to her, when life had approached as 'normal' as it could be for her, when she could actually live as a normal girl could, and not worry about what could put her in the sick bed next, or who could be hurting her next, or even who she would have to hurt. Well, usually. There was always something there to keep her on her toes, and her fears alive.

Detective Mullens gave her hand a squeeze - and as with many things about the Girls, he couldn't believe how small, soft and gentle Bubbles' hand was, considering that she had the strength to kill him with a single punch as casually as one would stick a knife in a steak at lunch.

"It'll be fine," he comforted the shyest of The Three. "I'm taking the Amoeba Boys down before they can hurt you and your sisters again. That's a promise. I'm close. I can feel it."

That was when another familiar figure stepped through the ruined glass doors of Joe's Pawnshop. A muscle-bound, tall man who looked only vaguely old, wearing the USDO's SWAT gear sans the helmet, with a beret proudly showcasing the shield and eagle of the USDO. General Blackwater. He was followed by a smaller man, but one who had a presence of his own. Captain James 'Boomer' Wilbur, one of the general's best captains in charge of combating crime in the city. His appearance was deceiving - he looked like a gentleman, bespectacled with a round-rimmed pair at that that didn't quite go well with his SWAT gear. His soft appearance and dirty blonde hair gave the appearance of a scholar, not a soldier specializing in explosives.

General Blackwater surveyed the pawnshop, squinting his eyes at the mess, before looking down at Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, scoffing and staring disapprovingly at them. Two guards followed on his flanks, two nameless soldiers in black armed heavily despite the disproportionately minor crime committed on the scene.

"Hello, Mister Blackwater," Blossom greeted one of the most powerful man in the USDO, not that she was aware of the fact.

"The three of you are still walking around like a fashion show," the general growled at Blossom. He was supremely displeased, and he was going to let everyone know about it. The lack of progress in the war against organized crime and terrorism had practically come to a standstill, ironically because of the lack of major crimes committed. The rats had gone into hiding in the basement, and there was no way to catch them after they'd cleaned house all too well.

"What do you mean?" Blossom asked, immediately upset by General Blackwater's vague accusation. "Don't you like my skirt?"

"Skirt!?" the huge man gasped in disbelief when Blossom seemed incredulous. "That's the problem, you-!" He had to hold himself back from swearing at her. Despite the Girls' exposure to the harsher elements of city life, they had developed a dislike for expletives, something that Professor Utonium had no doubt inculcated in them. "You're not supposed to wear a skirt with your uniform! This is the third time I've warned you about this!"

"But it looks nice…" Blossom said stubbornly, but it seemed as if General Blackwater did not hear her. Instead, he decided to move on to Bubbles. Boomer looked on with disbelief, his eyes telling the Girls that he was sympathetic to them.

"And you!" the general scolded the timid one. She jumped at his booming voice as if a cannon had just been fired near her. "Where the hell is your top!? Where the hell are your upper arm guards!?" He was referring to the fact that Bubbles had made it a habit to wear only her standard issue singlet underneath her kevlar gear.

"I- I- get real nervous and hot and sweaty all the time whenever I fight crime…" Bubbles struggled to explain herself as her eyes went down to the floor.

"And do you think I don't!?" General Blackwater barked at Bubbles.

"Yes…" Bubbles mewled, visibly discomforted by the general's chiding. The general gave her the death stare when she answered wrongly, and she quickly corrected herself to avoid getting more attention from him. "No…" But the general did not care to listen any further. Instead, the general turned to Buttercup, who was just as incredulous as Blossom when he did, her smile at her sisters' plight disappearing quickly.

"Woah! What did I do?" Buttercup questioned the general in disbelief.

"Where's your helmet!?" he questioned the enhanced little girl, despite her uniform and gear being the least compromised of the three.

"I don't need it! Besides, it was blocking the view!" Buttercup defended herself a little more rigorously than the others.

"You're not Blossom," the general growled curtly. "You don't have the infrared beam excuse." Blossom had eschewed her helmet and goggles because of her occasional use of her heat vision. There was this once early in January when she had used it without removing her goggles. It melted the glass and caused a lot of pain when some of the molten glass got on her skin. The helmet had also melted around the edges because she'd looked too far to the left and right while aiming her eye beam.

Buttercup said nothing more and instead crossed her arms as she glared daggers at Blossom from the corner of her eyes. The comparison between her and Blossom had caused her mood to crash rock bottom. She never liked being compared to her leader sister, especially when it was implied that she was inferior to her. The idea that Blossom was better than her had been hanging around like a specter ever since she mastered how to walk and talk. No, she hated the comparison with a passion, and whenever it was brought up, she couldn't help but feel a little… sororicidal towards Blossom.

"Bubbles, Buttercup. I want you two in helmets from now onwards," General Blackwater ordered before turning around to leave. The lack of Lombardi-linked criminals arrested disgusted him. But before he left the shop, he stopped and turned his head to regard them from the corner of his eyes. "And for crying out loud, stop forgetting your submachineguns! Have some standards, damn it!"

Except Blossom and Bubbles didn't quite forget to bring them - they just hadn't needed them since December, especially when both Blossom and Bubbles had direct substitutes in the form of heat vision and sonic scream. In the general's mind, however, dropping the primary firearms would mean reducing tactical options - something which he would not tolerate.

With that, the general turned and left. Boomer, however, stayed behind. His face, which was incapable of hiding emotions, told everyone on the scene that he was visibly disturbed by the general's treatment of the Girls.

"I'm sorry about that," Captain James Wilbur apologized to the Girls. He bent down to stroke Bubbles in the head. "He gets like that sometimes, but he means well. He wants the city clean as much as any of you. Truth is, he cares about the three of you."

Bubbles had been on the verge of tears, but she was able to calm down a little. It helped that Boomer had been the demolitions expert who'd tried to blast her out of the panic room she was trapped in back in Morbucks Industries Research Labs. He'd visited them after that, back when they were still in wheelchairs after the terrorist attack.

"Really?" she squeaked as if the general was still there.

"Yeah. He's just… under a lot of pressure," the captain said. "And no way to release it when the Lombardi wouldn't come out to play."

"BOOMER! GET OVER HERE, NOW!" like a phantom, the general had reappeared at the entrance of the pawnshop, bellowing more harshly than a drill sergeant to a bunch of recruits.

"Yikes, gotta go," Captain James got up. "See you guys next time." He turned around and ran out of the pawnshop, disappearing into the crowd of law enforcers outside with the general.

"Asshole…" Olivia mouthed at the entrance after General Blackwater was gone. She'd never liked the general. The Girls, previously flushed with victory and glad to have done their part, had fallen sullen - well, except for Buttercup, who looked like she was just about ready to discover heat vision on her own and burn down the pawnshop.

"The general's wrong about the three of you. I've never met a more professional little girl in my life than the three of you." the detective praised the Girls hurriedly. "How about some milkshakes at Sal's Milk Bar, next Wednesday? My treat." The Girls beamed at him one after another.

After bidding goodbye to Detective Mullens and Olivia, the Girls took off from the entrance of the pawnshop, first flying to the roof of the building to retrieve their jackets and flight pack before rising into the air in their usual delta formation with Blossom in the middle. After achieving a height that had put them above the tallest building of the area, they opened up their flight pack with a push of the button and began flying towards home.

The flight pack had been the professor's idea. When opened, Wings would spring out from either end of the flight pack. It helped to stabilize them especially in higher altitudes and loaned them a degree of aerodynamics. It was also energy-saving, as the Girls would need to use less Chemical X energy to achieve the same thing. They could even glide for a while without using their flight ability.

"You really sure about that?" Detective Olivia said to her father back in the pawnshop, jokingly referring to the implication that she had become second to The Three. Mullens simply smiled wordlessly at her.