Chapter 3: Creeping Through the Cracks

Fucking PHO. I spent two whole days trawling through that cesspit of a website in order to find any sign of that mysterious bug girl, but the only thing I found was a gratitude post from one of the civilians she saved.

Sure, there was a lot of gossip about me breaking up with Gallant just to hook up with Dean, and people pitting me against Aegis in their versus debates (I'd kick his ass easily), but I couldn't find anything else about that elusive master. I wasn't mentioned at all, so there was nothing to worry about, right?

It should've been great news that our threat stuck, but anything could happen out in the unknown.

Right now, though, there wasn't much I could do, so I got my head together and focused on the lecturer's lesson. Apparently, telepathy was impossible because the brainpower it'd take to analyze a human being's unique neural patterns would require this telepath's head to be five times as big to contain all this information.

Why was this important?

Because the class I was taking was called Parahumans 103: Theories and Patterns, where scientists and scholars tried to make sense of the weird and bizarre patterns that powers brought with them. It was really interesting to me, all cape stuff was, but it was kind of hard to wrap my head around the more esoteric theories in a class that emphasized critical thinking.

Unfortunately, I was kind of lost. Thanks a lot, Parahumans Online, you really came in clutch today. I tried to follow along and take notes where I could, but it was a big fat mess by the end. Damn it.

I aced Parahumans 101 and 102. I loved these classes and I knew I could handle the workload, that's why I pushed to take them. I couldn't fall behind, I couldn't let myself or my family down.

When class ended, I took a deep breath. I could salvage this. But I didn't have to call Amy when my saviour was sitting next to me.

"Hey, can I check your notes for a sec?"

My fellow student stopped packing her bag. "Please be quick."

Once I got her notes, I snapped some pictures with my smartphone. She had really neat, flowing handwriting. Turns out that a hypothetical telepath wouldn't need to have a giant head after all, but that just meant that physics-breaking brainpower came from somewhere else. Like I said, it was really interesting.

Next time, I'd listen to everything. After I was done, I returned her meticulous notes, happier than a clam.

"You. Are. A lifesaver! Thanks, Sab!"

She smiled, just a little bit flustered. "You're welcome, Victoria."

Her dark eyes lingered on mine for a moment before she put away her stuff. I met Sab, or Sabah, back in Parahumans 101. We hit it off after she asked me about New Wave and our mission. Not too many people asked about that, so I was totally stoked to answer all her questions.

She also had this sense of diligence I really appreciated. Lots of people had some talent, but the best of the best didn't settle, they worked super hard to be great. Oh, and she was a fashion student: her cream cardigan and flared black jeans reflected her modest but stylish flair.

"You seemed quite distracted in class," she said, after we left the lecture hall. "Are you feeling well?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but you're bang on the money otherwise."

She blinked. "May I ask why?"

It'd be really easy to just blow her off; my work as Glory Girl was my business. But, like, why would I do that?

"Hero stuff, that's all."

Sabah pursed her full lips. "Distractions are usually nuisances that haven't been addressed. I'd recommend doing that, so you can put whatever might be bothering you out of mind."

I wouldn't call my distraction a nuisance, but the idea as a whole sounded pretty neat.

"I'll give it a shot. But you know, I can't even think about getting distracted by fashion. All those pretty clothes, getting to meet awesome designers, it sounds amazing."

"It's hard work. Repetitive."

"But..."

I smiled at her, eager for any juicy titbits. She had this deadpan stare going on, but eventually, she caved.

"I've learned to enjoy it. I can express myself through the fabric."

While she sounded sincere, she also seemed kind of detached. Like, people fell into taking university degrees, but with fashion?

"And here I thought you were a budding fashionista."

She smoothed out her long black hair. "It's more of a means to an end, if I'm being honest."

"What's that end?"

Her eyes narrowed. "One I've yet to discover," she said, suddenly terse.

I didn't like where this was going. Amy liked to make these half-statements when she wanted to shut down a conversation she didn't like. One time, I asked her why she was sneaking out of the house late at night, and she froze me out, even though she came back dead tired. It really grinded my gears.

Still, Sabah wasn't my sister, she was just a friend. It wasn't my place to pry.

"If you do, I'll definitely be your first customer," I said, all smiles. "Or even your muse."

A small smile graced her face, highlighting her sharp cheekbones. "That would be lovely."

I didn't have any other classes today, so I was looking forward to revising today's lesson and spending some time at the hospital. Last time, I got to hang out at the pediatrics ward and put some smiles on kids' faces. Being a hero didn't just mean fighting crime... even if that was the best part.

First, I had to get through the crowd blocking my way. Naturally, everyone let me through. They were surrounding this woman, and wow, she wasn't looking too hot. There wasn't a single part of her face that wasn't a bruise, and her teeth were knocked out of her bleeding mouth.

My plans could wait.

"Who did this?" I asked, speaking with the full authority of a powerful superhero.

"We just found her here," some guy said.

"She must've collapsed," another girl added. "I saw some blood on the concrete, like a trail."

I frowned, searching the crowd as I heard ambulance sirens coming closer. Someone violated this woman. Lucky for them, they weren't stupid enough to stick around, because I would find them and make them pay for their brutality.

Then I saw a white guy – white dress shirt, blue jeans, bald as the moon – smiling. His knuckles were swollen, spattered with blood as he backed through the rising crowd, gleefully triumphant in beating down an innocent black woman.

Anger flooded my veins, making my body tremble.

"What's her name?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay level.

"Andrea Young," Sabah said, right behind me. She must've followed me through the crowd. "She's an engineering student." She frowned. "Find the person who hurt her, Glory Girl. Serve them justice."

I scowled. "It'll be my honour."


Because I made sure the paramedics were taking care of Andrea, that scumbag got a head start making his great escape. He got even more time to scurry away because I couldn't spin into my costume.

But I changed fast, and tracked him down to a thin alleyway in no time at all. I dove to the ground and landed hero style, kneeling down with my arm extended forward. The asphalt parted to herald my entrance.

Finally! And I couldn't have stuck the landing at a better time.

The skinhead noticed me and bolted. I rose, ran my fingers through my hair and grinned, righteous anger transforming into excitement. He thought he was so slick, but compared to me, this Nazi was nothing but a rat.

I flew past him and turned on a dime, the wind catching my hair and costume with a flourish that flushed all the colour off his face. Perfect. Just perfect. That was why I practiced, that's why I dressed up, so that every criminal I caught knew Glory Girl was the one that took them down.

"You attacked Andrea Young," I said, giving him a taste of my power to drive every word into his thick skull. "She was defenseless, she was innocent, and you assaulted her for no reason!"

The Nazi spat. "I don't know nothing 'bout that."

"Bullshit! You beat her! You knocked out her teeth! I bet you were so proud of yourself, weren't you?"

He sneered, but he couldn't even look me in the eye. "You got no proof. I didn't do anything."

So he wasn't just a lowlife criminal, he was also a fugly coward.

"Then why are your knuckles bloody?"

He tried to make a break for it, but I wrapped my fists around his collar and flew above the buildings, directly over an open dumpster. I saw the beads of sweat tricking down his forehead, the sliver of fear he desperately tried to hide.

"You part of Empire Eighty-Eight? A wannabe? Well, here's what's gonna happen. You're going to spill everything you know about your little victim's club, and maybe I won't shatter every bone in your body."

He started to squirm under my grip. "Fuck that, you can't touch me. It's illegal. I'll sue!"

I smiled. "You're a criminal. I can hurt criminals."

I ramped up my awesome aura, flooding emotional current into him to make him beg for mercy.

"Last chance."

"Eat my nuts, you cunt."

Said the genius high in the air, with nowhere safe to land.

I wanted to drop him into the dumpster, or better yet, 'miss'. Then, I could watch this Nazi go splat on the asphalt and bounce around like a basketball. It'd be the least this slimeball deserved.

Instead, I threw him about thirty yards away. Gravity took its hold and drove him towards an unforgiving crash. He wasn't going to land, though. I caught up to him and cushioned his fall as much as possible.

He was going to pay... but I didn't have to break him to bring Andrea Young the justice she deserved. I made a promise. I was going to keep it.

I wouldn't forget the pain that I inflicted on the innocent.

"W-w–what the f-f-fuck?" he squealed.

I pushed him against the wall, digging my palm into his collarbone. "Tell me what you know and I won't use your body to break the world shotput record."

His eyes were wider than dinner plates, spittle flecked across his dried lips. "You're batshit crazy. What the fuck kinda hero are you?"

"The hero you deserve. Is that a yes?"

He threw his arm at me, but I shoved it against the hard brick.

"Nice try. Now, it's my turn."

I raised my fist.

"Okay, okay!" he screamed.

Good thing he listened. He took his sweet time answering, but that was fine, he was seconds away from being paralyzed. I could wait.

"You, you'll get me a break with the feds if I squeal. You can do that, I'd be an informant!"

I restrained my aura to a manageable level, but it still was there, a quiet threat.

"Start squealing."

He had to relax first, but he fought double time to stop freaking out.

"Lung was after the Undersiders Sunday night, but they got away by a hair. Now he's out for blood, ramping up his bid to conquer the Docks so he can weed them out. He's pushing into Empire territory, and it's got Kaiser worried since he isn't making so much progress downtown."

"Why's that?"

"This guy Coil's got a private army with laser rifles that cut through steel. Not only that, they can outgun most Empire men. But they can't beat Empire capes, and they never engage a fight they can't win, so they're in a stalemate that's been going on for months."

I knew about Coil: rich guy, probably a cape, but if he was, nobody knew his power. Unknowns were so dangerous because they were unpredictable.

"Are the triple-E's planning to strike the ABB?"

"Don't know, but they'll have to respond. Save face. As for the Undersiders, I bet they lay low for a spell, wait it out until Lung's hands become full. But any sign of weakness and the whole city'll come down to take the Docks for themselves. And if that happens, shit's gonna hit the fan for you heroes. I'm talking war like the bad old days."

Bad was almost an understatement. I heard war stories about the monsters that took root in Brockton Bay from my mom and dad, my uncle Neil and aunt Sarah, how those villains were driven out through bloody sacrifice after bloody sacrifice. It left me cold from fear that it could happen again if everything went to hell.

"A brain like yours, and you choose to be a racist fuckhead." I shook my head. "God, you're pathetic."

He smiled, devoid of any joy. "Nothing pathetic about wanting to win."

Shit. He wasn't actually wrong, and it made my skin crawl. That didn't mean I was gonna give this Nazi the satisfaction of a hero's agreement.

I left the alley behind, flying towards the university with the skinhead in my grip. The ambulances were still there even though most of the crowd had dispersed, so I descended for a swift landing. All the while, my captive was powerless to stop his fate.

Andrea Young was awake, and not only was she not bleeding, her face was completely unblemished. Amy was in costume at her side, scarf around her neck as she spared a glance at the Nazi.

I looked her in the eye, seeing her wariness, and shook my head. She nodded once, so I pulled him up by the scruff of his collar and faced Andrea.

"Is this the guy who assaulted you?"

Fear struck Andrea the moment she saw the skinhead, but as it dawned on her that he was at my mercy, she grew defiant, baring her perfect teeth.

"Yeah, that's him."

I smiled. "Good."

"What about my break?" he asked.

Fucking idiot. Did he seriously think he'd get away after calling me a cunt?

"I never promised anything, loser. Hope you have a good lawyer."

I pressed his head against the concrete and locked his hands behind his back with zip-ties. Amy already had her phone out, talking to the police. Meanwhile, Andrea stomped to the Nazi and kicked him squared in his ribs. He groaned, and she spat at his head.

"Fuck you!" she shouted. "Bitch-ass motherfucker!"

She kicked him again for good measure. Amy could heal him up, but I didn't want Andrea to get into any trouble, even though she absolutely deserved to vent.

"You got him," I said. "It's okay. He'll get much worse in jail."

"She's right, Andrea," Amy said, catching up to us. "The police are coming. You won't have to see him again."

Andrea breathed hard, squeezing her face. "Are you sure? I don't even know who this fucker is!"

She looked like she was about to kick him again, tear out her pound of flesh.

"We'll find out who he is," I said. "Promise."

I wasn't sure what I'd do if she wouldn't listen; her head was swivelling frantically between all three of us. But eventually, her fury cooled off bit by bit, giving Amy the chance to check the Nazi.

"He's a bit bruised, but that's easy to fix," she said. She looked up at me and smiled, filled with relief. "Good work, Glory Girl."

I beamed. "Thanks, Panacea."

True to her word, the police arrived and booked this Nazi immediately after we gave our testimony. Good riddance.

I despised Nazis of all stripes, always had. Some wannabe Empire Eighty-Eight punk killed my aunt in her own bed and derailed our whole movement. He was lucky that he got to rot in jail, luckier than he deserved.

Heroes weren't murderers, though. We had ways to restrain even the strongest capes. But a little reminder never hurt.

"How are you feeling, Andrea?" I asked.

Andrea sucked in another deep breath, exhaling. "Better. Much better."

"What about your injuries? You're looking great."

Her eyes flickered towards my sister. "Panacea fixed up everything, no questions asked."

"All the bruises and scrapes, all her missing teeth," Amy added. "I gave her a tune-up, too."

"I feel like a billion bucks. I... I... thank you. Thank you both."

"It's the least we could do," Amy said, quiet.

A smile bloomed on Andrea's face, a dazzling gleam so bright that she could barely contain it. Seeing her smile free and unrestrained filled my heart with joy. Days like these made being a hero worth all the heartache.

Best of all? I didn't have to cripple a criminal to help Andrea seize justice. This could be the beginning of something beautiful.