Dear lord, patrolling was so boring.

Here Taylor was, making rounds of the Docks like a proper little adventurer, and absolutely nothing was happening. She grimaced underneath her mask. She bet Glory Girl never had to spin her wheels instead of just finding bad guys to stop.

The cloaked figure leaned against an empty warehouse and carefully scratched underneath her balaclava. So fricking itchy. I mean, it was keeping her face warm as well as hidden, but fucking wool, man. Next time she upgraded her costume she was going to find something more comfortable.

She was about to resume her fruitless patrol when she heard... something inside the warehouse. Not machinery or engines and not speech... More like someone trying to be quiet but not caring too much about it? Aaaaand there was a loud sneeze and some muffled cursing. Yeesh. Welp, looks like someone was where they shouldn't be!

Taylor quickly looked around. There was a rolling cargo door around the corner where she just came from, that was out for obvious reasons. This side had some windows way up near the roof, but that was a good twenty feet up and Taylor couldn't fly. Yet, anyway. Around the other corner!

A service door, good. She sneaked up and carefully turned the knob. Unlocked. Whoever was in there was an idiot. Carefully open the door and slip inside. The cloak billowed slightly, obscuring her form, midnight blue against the darkness outside.

Taylor suddenly snapped aware. There was someone else in here. I mean, duh, but literally right in this space with her. She was thinking faster than usual. A lot faster. Like she had all the time in the world to consider her next action. Thinker power, nifty! She decided to spin her cloak around her and duck. Hopefully it would make her harder to hit.

And a loud retort as a gun went off, barely missing her. Some asshole tried to shoot her! Oh, this would not stand. Having declared their position, Taylor was now aware of exactly where her opponent was. Too far to strike immediately with her knife or staff, but... there was one of her powers she wanted to try...

A glow filled her hand in an instant, illuminating her for a moment before she aimed at her assailant. A blast of light in a color that hurt to look at hit her target, who glowed briefly as the bolt struck him. He dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Huh. She had the feeling that the amount of damage she could do was somewhat variable, but surely she hadn't taken him out in one hit and oh shit did she just kill him?

Taylor rushed forward, dropping her staff, which clattered to the ground, and knelt next to the guy. Fuck, she recognized him! Bob or Ben or something from school, who had dropped out over the winter break. Guess he found a better option. Or at least one he couldn't refuse.

She didn't remember a lot from the first aid training she'd had when she and Emma had been Girl Scouts, but she knew enough to check his pulse and breathing. Okay, okay, she didn't kill him, there was a pulse. A weak one, and shallow breathing, but not dead. Just defeated. Okay, good.

There was another bang as an inner door was kicked open and light flooded into the room. Fuck, of course the gunshot would attract unwelcome attention! No weapons at hand except a gun she didn't know how to use, she needed to practice more with that blast thing before she used it against another person, that other guy was moving awfully slowly... Nope, that thinker power again. She was going to be able to act before him. How could she resolve this? De-escalation, Taylor, think about how to de-escalate!

"I could've easily killed your friend here and can just as easily kill you."

Okay, what the fuck was coming out of her mouth? And why was the guy not shooting yet?

"Put down your weapon and I won't blast you to pieces so small that Scion himself couldn't put you back together."

Project yourself, make him believe you, you're a big intimidating person, Taylor, be afraid of the unknown cape, dude. Be afraid and "Drop the fucking gun before I boil your eyes out of your head!"

A clatter as the firearm hit the floor. So that worked.

Taylor stood and her cloak closed around her, cutting what must've been an imposing figure given how the second guy was now actually literally quivering in fear and was that? Yup, he just pissed himself. For fuck's sake, she knew that there was no way she was that scary, so what the hell was going on?

She took one step towards the second, older man and... he passed out. For reals. Oooookaaaaay. So apparently when she tried she could be a scary-ass bitch. Good to know. Didn't feel like a power, though. Or at least not one of the abilities that Scion gave her. Maybe something in the way he optimized her? Whatever, she would figure it out later.

First things first, gather the guns so if they came to, they wouldn't shoot her in the back. Second things second, look through the open doorway into the larger space and huh. Four women tied to mattresses. Four naked women tied to mattresses. Four beaten up, naked women tied to mattresses.

Taylor turned and kicked the guy who'd passed out in the ribs and felt something crack. Steel-toed boots for the win. Now that he wasn't backlit, she could tell that he was a middle-aged Asian man. Vietnamese, maybe? Which meant this was almost certainly an ABB setup.

Punishment done, she walked over to the row of mattresses, pulled out her hunting knife, and started cutting the women free.

"I don't have anything to cover you with, I'm sorry. But I'm about to call the police and I'll let them know to bring blankets or scrubs or something. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe until they get here."

The women seemed shell-shocked into speechlessness until one, a tall black woman, visibly steeled herself and stood. "Thank you. Did you kill them?" Her voice was flat, with a hint of anticipation.

"No, but I made sure that they'll remember tonight."

"Pity."

And in that awkward silence, Taylor used the cheapie burner phone she'd bought at the convenience store to call 911.

"911, please state the nature of the emergency."

"Yeah, I just rescued some women from a whorehouse and beat up the guards and need someone to come pick them up and get them somewhere safe."

"Where are you located, ma'am?"

"Warehouse 17 on Fleet Street in the Docks. Um, none of these ladies have any clothes and I don't see any in here, so whoever you send should bring something for them."

"Emergency services are on their way, ma'am. You said you rescued these women. Are you a powered individual, ma'am?"

"Yes."

"Are there any other powered individuals involved that responders should be aware of?"

"You mean villains? No, none that I could tell."

"Thank you. Police should be there in approximately five minutes. Please stay on the line until they arrive."

"Uh, that's okay. I'll just wait here. Oh! Tell the cops that the back door is unlocked and the guards are unconscious and unarmed in the first room. I'm going to watch over them because... uh, I don't have any zipties. But I'll be waiting for them."

With that, Taylor hung up. Okay, mental note to get zipties before she went out again. Still, she didn't get hurt, she rescued some people from sexual slavery, and she didn't have to kill anyone. Not bad for her first night!

True to the dispatcher's word, Taylor heard some cars pull up outside the warehouse and returned to the back room to greet the police. She was waiting in the doorway where she had a good view when the outer door opened. In walked a man wearing a mask of a snarling demon.

Oni Lee. Fuck.