Helga G Pataki: Hillwood's New Superhero

by KlutzyMaiden123

As if my life hadn't already been difficult. I already had to watch the love of my life, Arnold, make goo-goo eyes at little Miss Perfect, Lila Sawyer, while completely ignoring me. Now, I have to juggle school, keeping my feelings for him secret and battling evil dressed in a skimpy bathing suit, all the while keeping my lifestyle as a superhero from my nosey classmates.

21. The Unlikely Hero

Heyyyyyy y'all. Wow, it's been a while, how long has it been, four months? Sorry about lowkey abandoning this story, I didn't have intentions on doing so but I'd picked up a new job and wanted to settle into that first. Plus, this chapter was pretty intense so it became more difficult to actually sit down to write it. But hey, on the bright side, this ended up being the second longest chapter so far? (Nothing's beating that Wonder Woman chapter, I swear to Thor). SO yeah, I apologise for taking so long with this one, I was just super fussy about how it came out. On the bright side, I've put aside time to listen to more music (which some of y'all may know majorly inspires me) and even picked up reading more consistently. So yeah, I definitely think my skills are continuing to evolve, which is fun, it's always nice to come back to this story with a slightly different way of describing things.

But yeah, sorry about how long this one took! I really picked a good cliffhanger to just dip lol. But anyways, hope y'all enjoy this one!

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He stood on top of the Wonder Wheel.

Bright, beaming, his uniform was sharp, it burned against the night sky. It was like looking at a star, a snowflake with fine, honed edges. His hands curled at his hips and his hair rolled in silver waves. The locks swooped over his eyes, veiling those orbs from my sight, but even from here, I could see his mouth curling.

Suddenly, I felt disconnected from everything. He was so far, the moon a milky bulb behind him, so his large shadow fell over us. I shivered, feeling his weight press down on me. There was a burning in my chest, it pushed the blood in my veins until everything became numb.

"Serec . . ." I heard myself saying.

And somehow, he heard me.

"Milady," he said, the smirk cutting across his cheeks. "Long time, no see."

His voice, it drawled. Like it carried weight, one that crushed it—forced it onto all fours until it was crawling across the floor.

My ears were burning. I hadn't realised until a breeze pushed my hair to the left. I tried swallowing, but a lump had risen in my throat. A weight bounced into my shoulder. Glancing back, I realised I had stumbled into Rhonda. She looked in my direction, but I didn't see her expression—I wasn't looking at her. I stared at the small pocket of space over her shoulder, at the long strands that fluttered around. Plump, they poured like dark wine over her shoulders, which I noticed were trembling.

I became aware of a heat in my temples; it poured, and my ears began to ring. My chest had become blistered. I tried sucking in the air, but my heart was pounding so hard that my whole body was shaking. An electric current ran and burned my hands, and when I blinked, I suddenly felt as if I could see the air. I was blinded as it twisted, curved and flourished in spirals, in arcs that wrapped the hair around my throat.

"That—" Rhonda was speaking. I raised my eyes, unaware I'd been staring at the dirt, and glanced at her terrified expression. Beneath the black mask, her new face was pulled with worry, I could see the hairline fractures of panic tearing through her eyes. "That's th–the guy!"

She was looking at me and the breath in my throat sharpened. She wanted me to say something.

The floor tilted beneath my feet. I didn't know what I could possibly say to make us feel even the slightest bit better. I began to feel unsteady and struggled for balance, it was like someone had tipped the earth on its side. There was a pulse in my throat, it felt like a bird; one that wanted to escape, I could feel it beat its wings frantically as it tried to break free.

And suddenly, everyone had turned their attention to me, and I felt weighted. Like everything was slowly sliding its way towards me, like I was at the centre of the world, and I had to keep everything steady.

I opened my mouth.

And Serec laughed.

"I see you've put together a little team," he said, and when I glanced back, he was gesturing at each of the girls. "How charming."

His voice sent shivers down my spine. It made the blood in my veins freeze, the pulse flapping even harder. It was lovely—his voice, that is. There was no doubt about it. It was so silky it seemed translucent. Serec always said his words slowly, carefully, like he was pouring warmth into them. And strangely, that was what scared me most about him. The fact that, despite having almost ended my life, he could still keep up that faux politeness. He could have his hands twisted around my throat, his eyes wide and cold and spilling into mine, and still give me a smile that ran through me like a thorn.

His words were sugar coated, and his voice always wrapped around my name like an embrace. It was the most terrifying thing about him.

And despite it all, I found myself frowning. He described it so patronising, it made me feel like a little kid, being dropped off at day care.

"And if it isn't little Nel," he continued, eyes widening.

His words hung over us and when I turned around, Nel's eyes were thick with an emotion I couldn't place. She was looking at Serec, her forehead crumbled like a blanket, and didn't—couldn't meet my gaze.

"She hasn't told you?" Serec continued after a short pause.

I could feel that bird again, fluttering frantically, wanting to escape, and when I glanced back, I could feel my voice beating against its walls. Serec had a hand to his chest, like he was embarrassed, yet his eyes still glistened like gemstones.

There was a sinking feeling in my chest; a weight that twisted and turned and bulldozed right into my gut. But I shook my head, knowing that this was what Serec wanted. He wanted nothing more than to see us—me—distressed.

This was a joke to him.

So, I glanced back at Nel, wanting to reassure her that his words weren't working on me. I knew her too well. Why should I trust someone like him?

But then her eyes, without thinking, crashed into mine—and I knew.

Nel caged her emotions; her face was normally hard and her eyes tight, like a flash of silver. There were some times I could see concern melting through her body, but otherwise her gaze was always cool. Pinched with worry, but sleek like glass. But now I could see it; I could see the way her face had crumbled, and as the light shuffled across her forehead, her eyes shimmered like lakes.

Her eyes swept up to meet mine, taking in my reaction, before she sullenly dropped her gaze. It was like my heart exploded in a burst of heat that rung in my ears. I could myself stepping closer to her when I heard a light thump.

It made my heart start; I spun around on the balls of my feet, and when we all looked up, Serec was a few feet from us. Dust settled around his feet. His knees were slightly bent, but he wasn't standing like a man who had jumped more than fourteen stories to the ground. His hands were still deep in his pockets, his shoulders still straight, and a sly smirk tugged at the right side of his lips. And despite it all, there wasn't a hair out of place.

His chin had lowered, making his curls fall over his face like a curtain of snow, but his stare latched onto mine.

"Now, I'm already fairly acquainted with two of you," he said, like nothing had happened, as he straightened his posture. He kept his hands tucked in as he took long strides towards us, his curls bouncing with every step. The smirk along his face became more pronounced the closer he got. The sight of it made a pounding rattle behind my ears. "But your other half, I'm afraid, I haven't the pleasure of meeting."

He stopped, inches from us.

I shuddered.

The air was spiking; like everything had stilled, hardened into plates of glass, all pointed in my direction. I could feel the ground twist beneath me and my skin now beating, as if to contain the pounding.

There was a rustling besides me—Lark.

I tilted my head a fraction, in her direction. She was moving closer, glaring at Serec, who watched her with amusement that almost made his gaze sparkle. But then he shifted his attention to Rhonda and pulled one hand from his pocket, turning it over and stretching it across the space between us.

I felt rather than heard her breath hitching and her hands twitching towards me.

"And what is your name, then?"

He lowered his voice. Somehow, it made him even more terrifying. I didn't blame Rhonda for not answering. My own voice had frozen, I could feel it tightening and crackling in my throat. Like Serec had secretly cast his magic to ensnare the bird, so that it could no longer flutter.

Rhonda's silence didn't bother him. The smirk glistened, eyes almost softening, and he reached up for her face. Whether it was to stroke her cheek or tear off her mask, I didn't know because his fingers never reached her.

There was a glint from my peripherals. I barely moved my head a fraction when Lark swung her blade, and Serec's hand was gone.

There was silence, filled with people sucking in their breaths, and for a moment, I was certain that Lark had just lobbed off his hand. But the man was still standing before us, smile plastered over his face with both his hands folded in front of him.

Rhonda blinked, like she had come out of a trance, and glanced between Lark and I. But I stared at Lark, who appeared bewildered, and hell, I was as well. Her blows usually never missed, she was always so quick and alert.

She clamped her mouth shut, expression hardening, as she regarded Serec coolly.

"She's none of your concern," she said, voice slightly growling, and swung her rod until it was pointed at the ground.

I stared at her, taken back by how threatening she seemed.

Serec also looked impressed and raised his eyebrows.

"One must be quick around the infamous Lark," he said with an acknowledging nod. A tiny white curl fell over his brow as he cast his gaze across Lark's features. "Your face is fair beneath that mask. How I cannot wait to tear it from your skin."

His words had a ripple–like effect over Lark's face. I watched as her eyes widened, the resolve dropping from her expression like a stone, and her lips parting as what he said slammed into her like fists. His voice had lowered as well, turning back into a threatening growl that felt like it came from his stomach. Lark was standing close to me, so I could see the tremors running down her body and feel it in the air between us.

She tightened her hold around her rod and pursed her lips, trying to cover how she felt. But it was too late, she had left that split second wide open, where you could see the effect he had on her. I then glanced at them—Lark, Rhonda and Nel—and felt the painful feeling sink back through my stomach. They were all so strong, always standing tall and proud, but within one meeting, Serec had them trembling.

"Leave them out of this, Serec," I growled and stamped forward so that his gaze flickered back to mine. I scrunched my face into what I hoped was a threatening scowl and raised my chin. "Your fight is with me."

I widened my stance, taking as much room as I could to cover the others. I could feel their eyes boring into me, staining my skin like bleach. There was a rush of blood that made everything burn, it swelled in my knuckles, and pumped beneath my palms.

Serec, on the other hand, slowly smiled.

"Oh, do not mistake me, milady. I only have eyes for you," he said, raising both his eyebrows and hands, almost as if reassuring me. But then his smile sharpened ominously. "But I'm afraid that . . . my eyes are not the only ones feasting upon you this evening."

I frowned, unsure of what he was referring to, when I suddenly heard the snarling.

It was quiet, barely noticeable against the soft breeze, and was as loud as whispers. But it was there. A gasp worked its way from my lungs, and I stepped back, glancing at the shadows. They surrounded us, black clouds that swelled and spread like smoke. The snarling then picked up as several figures stepped out from the shadows, treating the darkness like parting curtains, and us the audience.

Breath hitching, we all crawled backwards.

Clacking her teeth together, Lark yanked her rod up with a shing! and palmed the vibrating metal. Rhonda gave a startled gasp and Nel jumped into her arms, looking around with wide eyes. A pounding hollowed my throat as my knife rushed back into my hands, and my knees began to tremble. I glanced around, feeling arms, legs and feet graze me as we slowly peddled backwards, unable to look away from the Mutants.

Shadows scattered as growling bodies with sharp fangs and claws poured out from the darkness. Sequined teeth knitted between growling rubbery lips and the sounds of hooves swam thick around me.

The air flushed hot. Fog filled my mind, softening the edges until everything felt like it was about to collapse. The heartbeat in my throat became stronger, like it was punching through walls of butter. I could feel eyes turning to me, readying their questions or direction, but when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

There was a seizing sensation in my chest, like someone had punched a hole through it. I wondered if that had been where my voice had gone, if the lack of fluttering meant that the bird had escaped. Or maybe it had sunk even deeper, there was still a flittering in my stomach.

I lowered my chin, feeling my eyes dart around my shoes. Like I was looking for a plan, or an answer. Heat was sinking deep in my muscles, the sweat that slipped down my arms felt like it weighed a million pounds.

I shook my face—I needed to concentrate. I needed to find a way out of this for us, maybe I could still use my powers. Maybe enough time had passed that I—

And then I heard it—laughter.

Deep and ringing, it rushed in like water but hit me like ice. I could feel it grating down to my spine. My posture straightened, snapping straight like a rubber band, and when I whirled around, Serec was already moving backwards.

His lips were already tugged up into that little smirk before he had even met my glare. His eyes were still bright in that dangerous way and his curls stirred around his face. He took another step and it suddenly hit me that he was taking his leave.

I burned hot with anger, and, with a growl, I bared my teeth, "Serec!"

I ran.

The movement had the joints in my bones popping; I hadn't realised how firmly they'd locked into place. I expected there to be pain, but a warm and swelling rush pummelled through my body. It sunk into my bones, mending the cracks, and practically glowing in my knees.

I let it drive me forward.

There was a burning in my eyes, it turned my sight into nothing more than a blur, like someone was holding plastic over my face. The image of Serec muddied, he became a smudge, tall and white. But I kept running even as the ground softened beneath my feet to an almost dewy texture, and my pulse swarmed like bees. It burned that hole in my chest. Deep, large, throbbing. And the air that twisted in my stomach became sharp, a burst of heat that blistered my lungs.

Serec, the whole time, remained still.

He had his chin tilted slightly, as if trying to meet my gaze. But his legs stayed in place, he didn't take another step, allowing for me to catch up. I felt a pulse in my wrists, ricocheting, and smacking against my knife. I clutched onto the vibrating metal as hard as I could and felt anxiety pool in my palms. I could feel something buzzing inside of me. It tingled in my fingertips, sharpened my vision, and lodged into my throat.

I sucked in a breath.

And swung.

I expected for there to be blood; my eyes had shut, but I expected for that wet heat to clap against my face, splash into my lashes and dripple down in thick droplets. I expected to be met with a force, one that jolted though to my bones, as my knife sank into the seat of his skin. And I expected to be hit with a smell, that sour scent that drilled into your nose like nails, but instead, all I felt was cool wisps of air.

It curved around my face, so soft it was like being brushed with velvet. A sudden weightlessness had my stomach in my throat, and when I opened my eyes, I saw my knife move right through his shoulder. It was like he had transformed; like his body was water, or a mirage, and my blade was sinking through him.

I hadn't realised that the weight had rocked onto the balls of my feet until I felt gravity lace around me. I felt myself falling as a horrible feeling sank through my chest, where it burned. I tried swallowing, but it was like something hard and sharp had lodged into my throat, snuffling my screams.

Then, a firm grip suddenly wrapped around my bicep and yanked—hard.

The knife clattered to the ground.

And I glanced up.

His face sharpened; like a freshly cut diamond, sharp with glimmering edges. The wind swept his hair back, exposing pale skin which, now that I was so close, reminded me of pearls. The moon was hot on his skin, it was like he'd been sprayed with a fine mist. The white light that splashed across his body, it had a glossy glow cascading down his skin, hot and dazzling. His eyes were so dark, they reminded me of bodies of water caught in the night, and in them, I could see myself drowning.

It scared me.

The wind then barrelled into us, almost knocking me to my knees. It made his hair dance around his face and my eyes water. I blinked against folding softness, rubbing my eyes, and when I looked up, his smile was a flash of silver.

Dirt was thrown over us, splattering across the ground, as the wind came down with a sharp clap that made my ears ring. It twisted my hair, hissed against my skin, and when I glanced back up, washed the last of Serec's pigment away.

I realised far too late what he was doing.

Clenching my teeth, I called the knife back into my hands, and screamed again, "Serec!"

But he was gone.

The spot where he had once stood, it was empty. My screams echoed into the night, filling the air, and I felt a hoarseness swell in the base of my throat. I rose a shaky hand, pressing my cold fingers to my skin, as if to calm the scratchiness. The grass was brushing up against open another, pushed to the left from the breeze, and pieces of gravel tangled with the air.

Serec had vanished—again.

And his laughter, it burned.

I clasped my elbows. The air took swipes at me, snaking between my hair and down my neck. I could feel my bones trembling, either from the cold or the rage. I bit down on my lip, trying to hold back the screams, but my fists twitched with the urge to hit something. I could feel my heart as it crashed back and forth against my ribs and a whirling sensation in my stomach.

I'd let him go.

"Shit," I muttered hoarsely to myself.

"Um, Blue Jay," I heard and when I looked over my shoulder, Lark was glancing between me and the Mutants. Her face was straight, features schooled smoothly, as her eyes darted to each of the monsters. "What do we do?"

The snarls filled the air, louder this time, and I copied her movements; crouching slightly, I swept my eyes left to right. The Mutants were moving as one, crawling in shadowed heaps, and as the moon came down on them, I realised how many surrounded us. They still stood close together, I struggled with landing on a solid number, but it was definitely in the double digits.

The wind was still strong, blowing hair into my mouth, and when I moved to push it out, I realised how hard my wrist was shaking. It felt like fire had buried beneath my skin, I felt overwhelmingly hot, and a roaring echoed in my ears.

"We take a page from the princess' book," I finally said, and when I felt the girls looking at me, I swallowed, not allowing my expression to soften. My knees creaked, and I swished my knife before spinning on my heels and slinging an arm around Rhonda's waist, who cried out with surprise. "We run."

The wires hissed, shooting out into the night, and when I glanced up, Lark's eyes met mine. A high pitched, rhythmic trill pulsed against my skull, circled around my neck, until my skin felt too tight for my body. I opened my mouth when the black sky swirled, suddenly swimming around me, and a rushing noise slammed into me. The pounding jumped up into my throat, stifling the scream, and I clamped my fingers down, pressing them into Rhonda's flesh so she wouldn't fall.

Air cracked against my face, scattering like locks across my skin, and something laced between my teeth. I hissed and spat the strands of hair, scowling at Rhonda, who had her eyes shut and mouth open, her scream muffling the air. Nel was cradled to her chest, eyes also closed, but with her paws pressed against her ears to block out Rhonda's sounds.

Shaking the hair from my face, I rolled my eyes, noticing a hissing closely following us from behind. I didn't need to turn to know that it was Lark, hot on our heels.

The world spun when we finally landed.

The sky swam and knocked against me. The floor lapped, shimmering and pawing at my feet, while the air shivered. Thick, crusading waves of heat soaked into my face. My arm fell from Rhonda's waist, noticing Nel jump from her arms, and lowered my chin, sucking in some breaths. The pounding had become an echo, like my chest was nothing more than a casket, a crate that had been hollowed out with cracking crusts about to cave in.

Heat puffed in my cheeks as I leaned over my knees, the air slipped into my lungs like cold water. For a moment, all I could hear was my pulse, it overrode everything—the wind, Rhonda's squawking, the in's and outs of my breath, everything. It was like thunder was battering my lungs, nearly making my bones cave. I had to tighten my grip around my knees so I wouldn't topple over.

The tops of a pair of boots came into my vision, and tipping my head back, I found myself staring up at Lark. She stood over me, one eyebrow raised, and head titled to the side as she waited for me. Her mouth was clamped shut and sweat slid down to her temples, but there wasn't an ounce of panic that cracked across her face.

She just waited.

I opened my mouth when I noticed the sounds—hooves, footfalls and screams. The noises broke through the mental walls I'd put up, pelting through like darts and shattering the silence. I saw Lark's eyes widening, her mouth dropping, before I quickly yanked on Rhonda's wrist and ran.

Lark didn't miss a beat, racing on one side of me while Nel took the other, sprinting right next to Rhonda. The wind dragged its ragged nails across my cheeks as we all ran, forcing ourselves to keep going down the avenue. Howls followed us, but none were nearly as loud as the girl running next to me.

"Would you quit it?!" I snapped.

"No!" Rhonda twisted her face in my direction. "It's because of you that I'm in this mess to begin with!"

"Me? You got captured!"

"Which makes it doubly your faul—"

"Both of you quit it!" Lark interrupted, hair scraping her face as she glared at us.

I frowned, about to snap back, when a jerking noise caught my attention. Her eyebrows popped up and we both looked over our shoulders. I gasped, realising just how close the Mutants were getting. They were larger than us, with longer legs that took bigger strides, and they were hot on our heels. Ordinarily, I knew that we could take them—Lark and I—but the spinning in my head had my lunch ready to come up. I couldn't imagine using my powers, much less throwing a punch.

"Shit!"

Rhonda and Nel both looked up, following my gaze and letting out large gasps.

"Can't you just fight them?!" Rhonda then demanded, turning back with an accusatory glare. Her bangs were plastered across her forehead and her jaw had sharpened. "Throw your magic stuff or whatever!"

"Weren't you paying attention, birdbrain?!" I shouted back at her. "We were drained by that thing from before! I can't throw that magic stuff!"

"But you can throw your knife," I heard Nel say and when I glanced down at her, her eyes were glimmering.

I raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"These Mutants are bigger than normal," Lark suddenly continued, finishing Nel's thought. Swivelling around to look at her, the redhead glanced between Nel and I, forehead crinkled with decisiveness. Her eyes were dark, sharpness fixing on her face. "If you get one of the quicker ones, the explosions might hold them off—for a bit at least."

Her eyes settled on mine, and a thud echoed in my chest. I suddenly knew what she was saying—what both she and Nel were saying. And though I could still feel the shakiness rolling down my body like rain, could feel the earth shifting like shadows and the fog swirling in my brain, I dug my heels into the ground and swivelled to a stop.

Rhonda, who hadn't been expecting that, stopped with a gasp. I looked back to her watching me like I was crazy. Lark and Nel stopped, waiting for Rhonda to continue running.

But Rhonda frowned. "What're you—"

"Get out of here, already!" I snapped then stretched out my palm. The knife was light, it appeared in my hand in the blink of an eye. I tightened my hold around the blade, digging my feet into the dirt, and sucked in a deep breath. The air was musk on my skin, both damp and dry; it was like someone had clapped their sweaty palms over my cheeks.

I blinked, focusing on the Mutants that travelled in packs, trying to ignore how the air both panted and screamed. From the corner of my eye, I could see Lark moving forward. She laid a hand on Rhonda's shoulder and when the darker girl turned to her, she gave a gentle but firm look and nodded in a direction.

Rhonda blinked, looking in that direction, then glanced back at me.

I looked up, meeting her gaze, but was unable to determine what she was thinking. Her face, it was unfamiliar, I had to remind myself that I was looking at a Guardian right now, not Rhonda. Her expression was blank, hard like gravel, and lips pursed. Her features twisted sombrely, hair shivering in the pale light as she scanned my face. I'm not sure what she was looking for but when the noises grew, she pulled away, turning to Lark, and nodded.

The three of them spun around, dashing back down the avenue, and when I found myself alone, I released another breath, only now aware how stiff I'd become. My bones almost cracked, popping out of the tight stance, and I turned, feeling my heartbeat curving in the arc of my neck.

Everything was still moving without permission—like shadows engaging in a fierce battle—but I blinked to focus on the Mutants charging in my direction. I felt my heart racing, realising how small I was, how there was only one of me against all of them. I felt like I was on a surfboard, alone in the wide and vast sea, watching as a large, curving wave was about to crash down on me.

My grip tightened.

I swallowed more air, but when it entered my chest, all I could taste was ash. A chill bent around me; it made the back of my neck singe as goosebumps rose. I rolled my neck, then raised my chin again. I noted one mutant in particular—a larger one with purple scales and a large eye. A plan formulated; I could feel the dots connected like strips of lightning. Pulling back my lips, I swung my knife.

The blade sliced the air; it cut through the winds and ripped across the ground. I edged one foot backwards, the pulse beneath my skin feeling like a punch to the throat. I watched as the knife sank into the Mutant's torso; there was a beat as its eye flickered down to its wound before I swung around and ran. The breeze roared in my ears, overriding the sounds of my feet hitting the earth before there was a blast of noise.

A burst of heat exploded outward, twisting up my spine, and I made a sharp turn. I was taken down another path, one where there were two rows of stalls, knitted tight against each other. Paint was chipping from the wood, once vibrant with colour but now dulling with age. Light came down in jagged spikes, then fattened into fragments that stretched across the dirt.

I clamped my mouth shut, frantically looking for the girls. I was sure they'd taken this turn. An ice cold chilliness sunk into my flesh as I whirled around, searching for them, when something wrapped around my elbow. A shudder rocked up my spine. My eyes popped open but before I could move, the force yanked me from my feet. My heart hit the back of my throat, stifling the scream, as I was pulled back onto a flat surface, which smacked sharply against my spine.

An ache settled and swelled in my bones as the breath was ripped from me. But before I could pull myself up, I was tugged again and felt myself roll over until I landed with a thwack! onto the ground.

"Oof!"

My vision crawled. A bolt of pain—hot and biting—shot through me and settled in the base of my throat. I found myself blinking up at a roof where shadows danced across the surface. I blinked, once, twice, thrice, and clamped my mouth shut as I felt my stomach turning, and the dizziness shooting through me like bullets.

But then a face popped into my view—bright, red, and with slashes of green.

I blinked, again.

Her face hung above mine, upside down and inches from my own. Her lips were tugged into that smirk, red hair hanging around her temples. The dizziness fluctuated, up and down, in my chest, and I was more then certain I could feel bile rising at the back of my throat.

And yet, I smiled back.

"Hey, Lila."

"Hello, Helga."

I shuffled. "That hurt."

Her grin widened. "Yeah, I bet."

She moved aside, allowing me to sit up, and when I did, everything spun. It felt like everything was zipping back and forth, I could feel the heat climbing up my neck as a nauseous chill swept over me. The pulsing in my chest beat with such force, it reminded me of a cannonball. I could feel it slipping up into my throat, dropping into my stomach, and then jumping into my throat again.

But then, everything aligned in my brain, and I looked around manically. Trying to make out my surroundings as I massaged the back of my head. We—Lark, Rhonda and Nel—were nestled behind a booth, cramped on the floor against the wooden walls so we wouldn't be seen. The air was dusty but colder than before and shadows limped over indistinguishable shapes.

Rhonda was the first one I noticed.

She was sat next to me with her legs pulled to her chest, elbows bent over her knees, and her face scrunched into a frown. Lark sat across from us, legs curled to the side like she was a mermaid, and Nel was slumped next to her. The three of them watched—well, Rhonda was pretending not to. Her head was against the wall, so her face wasn't looking in my direction, but I could see how she watched from the corner of her eyes—as I scooted back until I was propped up against the wall.

I sighed, resting against the wood. I sucked in a breath, wanting to feel the air pool in my stomach, but coughed on the dustiness. I saw everyone make motions to move forward—even Rhonda looked in my direction—but I waved them away, banging on my chest. When I'd calmed down, I rested back against the wall, and felt my heart pound so hard that it kicked the wood behind me. I stamped my fingers into the ground, making random shapes in the dirt to focus my mind on something. Bring myself back down to earth, ignore the churning scene that continued to waver and blur.

"Excuse me," Rhonda's chin raised, voice tight with that oh so pleasant entitlement. "But shouldn't you be—"

Lark clapped a hand over her mouth. "Shh!"

Rhonda's eyes flashed and she looked ready to push the girl away when the sounds of trampling footsteps filled the air. Everyone stiffened. I felt the breath freeze in my chest as I pressed my weight back against the wall. Seconds trickled by as we heard the Mutants pass over our hiding spots, stray snarls and roars sliding over us.

Without moving my face, I looked up at the girls. Lark still had her hand across Rhonda's mouth, eyes up at the roof as she listened to our surroundings. Rhonda's hands had frozen, wrapped around Lark's, and her chest moved up and down with harsh breaths. Her eyes were wide, almost watery, and it looked like she was holding onto Lark for dear life, like she didn't trust herself at that moment. Nel wasn't moving, like someone had hit pause on her, but her focus was directed at the counter–top. Her eyes didn't move once, but her ears twitched whenever the air twitched.

I didn't know how long this lasted. It felt like hours, though it couldn't have been longer than half a minute. But the seconds felt like hammers beating against my temples, scrapping down my skin like claws.

But then one of them—the Mutants—let out a noise. It sounded like something between a roar and a scraping sound, and, miraculously, the footsteps scattered in another direction. I swallowed, feeling the tension in the air weaken, almost shivering as the monsters clattered about, their attention elsewhere.

And when they were gone, everyone sank low with relief and released a large breath.

"They're gone," Nel said to no one in particular, lowering her head as she shut her eyes.

Her words sank in, ice melting into warm water, and I rested my head against the wood. The air had softened, no longer plump with heat, and it burrowed into my skin. My heart sank until it almost felt gooey and a soft feeling suffused me, easing the worry from my mind.

I heard a slight scuffle and opened my eyes to Rhonda shoving Lark's hand away from her mouth. She looked less than amused, yet despite the expression on her face, Lark merely held her hands up with a grin that was supposed to look innocent but just came across sheepish.

Ears tweaking, Nel opened her eyes to watch this all go down.

"No thanks to either of you," Rhonda snapped, in reference to what the cat had earlier said, and placed her hands on her hips. She sent particularly nasty looks between Lark and I. "What the hell was that?"

A slight frown replaced the grin on Lark's face, which turned into a shudder when she saw the look on my face. Sensing where this was going, she rubbed her temples.

"The hell was what?" I raised an eyebrow, taking the bait.

"That. Or—or any of this. Why am I dressed like this? Why can the cat talk and—"

"My name is Nel."

"That!" Rhonda stabbed her finger in Nel's direction and turned to Lark. "How can it do that?!"

Nel frowned, offended at how she was referred to, but eased when Lark placed a comforting hand on her head.

"She can do that because that's something her kind can do," she explained, voice softening like flower petals as she smiled down at Nel, then glanced up at Rhonda. "Just like us."

Rhonda raised her brows. "Her kind?"

"Yes, she's, erm, she's . . . kind of an alien talking cat thing?"

"Thing?!" Nel repeated, wrenching herself away from Lark, who grimaced and offered an apologetic smile.

"Erm," she glanced between her and Rhonda before shifting her attention back to the brunette. "But that's, uh, that's not important, you see—"

"What do you mean that's not important?" Rhonda demanded, crossing her arms. "That's huge—you have a talking cat alien hybrid!"

"You're surrounded by people with magical superpowers after just getting chased by several monster–looking weirdos, one of which exploded," I said, raising an eyebrow and crossing my own arms. "The talking cat is the thing you choose to focus on?"

"I am not a thing!"

"Well, yeah—duh, meathead!" Rhonda ignored Nel and flung her arms out like an angry crow. "I've never seen a talking cat before."

"But you've seen a girl faster than light, another with shiny forcefields, and a boy who's basically frosty the snowman personified?"

"Ooh!" Lark's eyes lit up.

Rhonda and I looked up from our little spat and glanced over in Lark's direction to find her pulling her phone out from her boot. She didn't glance up—I don't even know if she'd noticed us—and instead turned on her device and typed away like her life depended on it.

Rhonda and I glanced back at each other, simultaneously raising our eyebrows.

"Um," I blinked then turned back to Lark. "Whaddya doin'?"

"Writing that one down!" Lark said without looking up. The light from her phone hit her in the face, rebounding from her mask, and twinkled in her eyes. "I'm putting together a list of names I can call that guy!"

Oh, brother.

I looked back at Rhonda, who raised both her brows, then turned back to me with a shake of her head, like this was just a bad thought she'd rather forget. Strangely, I felt the same.

"Well, if you're so great," she continued, like nothing had happened, "then why can't you do any of that now?!"

"Weren't you listening, princess? I can't! That stupid Mutant caught us in a trap thanks to your dumbass and now we're too drained to use our powers!"

"You mean the trap that you walked into?"

"No, I mean the—"

"Oh, for the love of everything good and pure, would you two please stop fighting?!" Nel suddenly exploded and when everyone turned to look at her, her eyes were burning hot. Lark jumped, gulping when she saw the look on that cat's face, and subtly tried tucking her phone away into her boot. Silence hung as Nel glanced sharply between us, like a disappointed parent, before she opened her mouth. "There are more important tasks at hand here!"

"Oh, like the fact that you lied to me?!" I stamped my hands down onto my hips, feeling disgusted, almost appalled, that she had the nerve to sit there, acting like what happened had never happened. Or perhaps trying to distract us from remembered it at all. I felt my heart drop into my stomach, which churned like a burning pot. "You told me you'd never seen him before! Why the hell did he know you then?!"

Everyone turned to her.

She hesitated. "It's not what it seems—"

"You're fucking right, it's not what it seems!" I snapped. "You told me to trust you, Nel! And I have, I've done everything you've asked me too because I trusted you! And now I find out you've left me in the dark about something like this! This whole time? What the hell, Nel? How can I trust you again?!"

There was a roaring in my ears. I could barely hear my voice beneath it. It echoed like a drum in my chest, which now felt hollow, like the horrible feelings lodged there had burned everything away. Tension pressed in, swirling around me, and I felt my mind sweep back to that day—all those months ago. I had no one, not Lila, not Rhonda, and especially not Phoebe.

I only had Nel.

I tried resisting the urge, turning away from those memories before they could pull me under, but the words had already clicked into place. I remembered the sky, a captivating and royal blue, and the shadowed birds flapping across it. I remembered there being a breeze, rich with heat, that pushed hair into my face. It was burning and melted down the back of my neck.

I couldn't breathe.

The air was overwhelming, clawing at my face, and none of it settled. No matter how much air I'd sucked in, it just sat on my tongue, tasting of nothing. Strain burned my lungs. The air in my throat became smoke, weaving an intricate web as it moved into my chest.

I'd been standing with my fingers entwined in the links of the fence, staring at the sky. Skirt flapping around my knees. Hands like war wounds. But my mind had been far, unable to see anything but those eyes—those dark eyes.

They'd pulled me in, looped me in with elastic charms. I couldn't see anything but them. Everything around me became a colourless stain, a meaningless thought.

And then, she had showed up. I hadn't had to turn to know, I could feel her presence. Feel the spike in the air. See the shadow coming to a stop. The sun threw the shade across the tiles, stretching it so Nel appeared much larger than she was.

"I'm sorry."

Tension rolled in my throat.

"I'm afraid I do not know that either."

Lies.

"I'm sorry . . . I also do not know why."

Liar. You knew.

"Our best bet is that he is one of Acantha's henchmen."

What else had she lied to me about?

"It's because of your perseverance and stubbornness that Earth hasn't been invaded."

Had she ever been telling the truth?

"We're only here because you stood against those beasts."

Those words, which had once comforted me, they now burned. Like acid rain. I could feel them hissing against my skin, could feel the welts they left behind. How much had she kept a secret? Was it only this, or was I completely in the dark? Everything felt like it was being pulled apart, ripped at the seams, and now everything I knew and had trusted was unravelling before my eyes.

I tried controlling my expression, like I always did when I was Blue Jay. Rerunning over the routine of smoothening my features, fixing them into a clean, blank state. Flattening the space between my brows. Slackening my jaw and imagining the water that wanted to trickle down my face was liquid fire. But as tension built behind my eyes and all I could do was blink away that watery heat, I felt everything else crumble.

I could feel my resolve caving in. Exhaustion clung to me like a bad dream, snaking beneath my skin and into my bones. I tried summoning wrath, some of that anger that burned in my stomach and radiated from my palms. But all I felt was emptiness. Disappointment. It swarmed beneath my shirt, curled in my chest, like a swollen wound. I was so used to having to keep putting on that brave face, having to constantly act like I felt nothing, and keep putting my best foot forward, that I just couldn't with Nel.

Not her.

The hurt pummelled, bleeding through those torn walls, but still I waited, not opening my mouth so Nel could respond. Would respond. I wanted her to respond, to say something—anything. I wanted her to take it back, to deny everything that I and Serec had said. Anticipation crackled in my veins. I hadn't realised I was holding my breath until my chest cracked, like it was on the verge of collapse.

Nel was opening her mouth, but no words were coming out. The echoing roared hot in my ears. She had nothing to say—because it was true. What I was saying. What Serec had been saying. I felt my throat constrict. This entire time, I'd trusted her with my life, and she had lied.

She then dropped her gaze.

It felt like fifty feet of glass had been dropped. The sharp edges singed my skin, leaving deep cuts, and as a breeze rolled by, wind lashed against me like ice cold whips. The anger burned so deeply, it roared and before I knew it, I was opening my mouth, prepared to keep going when Lark moved forward.

"Stop—just stop, alright?!"

A frown marred her face as she put her hands up between us, like she was taming wild dogs, before she sharply turned on me.

"Helga, can't you see this is what he wants? He wants us to fight—he knows we're at our weakest divided, which is what will become of us if you allow him to sow his seeds."

"But Nel—"

"No, I don't want to hear it," she interrupted, dropping her hands to turn in my direction. "Nel may have her reasons, she may not. It's not my concern right now, those things are!"

She gestured in the direction the Mutants had disappeared.

I frowned, feeling that fluttering roar up in my throat again. I wanted to bark at her—what did she know about this situation? She hadn't known Nel as long as I had—when I noticed something. No one was speaking, and with it so quiet, I suddenly noticed the footsteps. They lightly thudded and were followed by several low growls; both the noises were steadily approaching our spot.

I felt my heart snap like a rubber band.

"Shit," I cursed, turning back to Lark to give her a nod. "Okay, let's go—"

"Wait—wait, you can't just leave me!" Rhonda suddenly latched onto my wrist as I shuffled onto my knees. I turned in her direction, eyebrows snapping together, and met her concerned frown. Her eyes shimmered. "You haven't answered any of my questions!"

"Wha—are you serious? We're—"

Lark rolled her eyes and clapped a hand onto Rhonda's shoulders. And before Rhonda could even look at her, Lark pulled her around so she was staring right into her eyes.

"Hey, wha—"

"Okay, Rhonda, have you seen Sailor Moon?"

I rolled my eyes. As did Nel.

Here we go . . .

"What? No, I don't watch that anime junk," Rhonda said with a wrinkled nose, like the idea offended her.

I jerked my gaze back up to see Lark's face drop.

Her eyes widened, like she'd just witness someone murdering their puppy on her front lawn, and her jaw fell. The speech that she'd been rehearsing in her head—one that I'd heard over thirty times at this point—was abandoned at Rhonda's blunt statement.

She stared at the girl, looking like she was dissociating. Chaos swirled behind her eyes, like she couldn't see anything else other than what stood in front of her. Her hand was still on Rhonda's shoulder, but I don't think she'd realised.

Rhonda frowned, uncomfortable, and I felt my chest seize. I was more than certain that Lark was about to throttle Rhonda and honestly, I wasn't sure who's side I was even on.

But then Lark sucked in a breath and forced a smile that wasn't even close to reaching her eyes. I shuddered, not at all liking that look on her face.

"Okay, fine," she said in an unnaturally high voice, speaking through unmoving teeth. She tilted her face in an attempt to appear friendly but ended up looking like a bird observing its prey. "What about the Winx Club?"

Oblivious to the tension, or concerned with it, Rhonda shrugged. "Eh, a little. It wasn't really my favourite."

Lark then stepped backwards, flinging her hands around violently, and Rhonda practically had to leap to get out of her way.

"WHOA, hey—"

"What do you mean a little?!" Lark demanded, not caring that she had almost hit her. "That was everyone's favourite show! Right, Helga?"

I shrugged, not wanting to be a part in this. "Eh, I was more into wrestling matches than cartoons."

Rhonda rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you would be."

"Why you—"

Lark groaned, breaking up our squabble, and pinched the bright of her nose with such an expression, you'd think she was being asked to repeat freshman year.

She then rubbed her mouth, eyes tired. "Why does no one have good taste in cartoons?"

"Because we're not children!"

Lark snapped her mouth shut, eyes flashing so severely I began to edge away. She looked ready to slap Rhonda—which, to be fair, I wasn't against. But she curled her fists by her sides, looking like she had to physically restrain herself and sucked in a deep breath, which made her jaw clench.

"Look," she said, eyes slipping shut for a minute before she released that sigh. Rhonda, as usual, was oblivious. Or didn't care. "Did you have a show where someone transformed into another powerful being?"

Rhonda, who had turned her back on Lark, paused. She looked up with a thoughtful gaze, tapping her chin, as she considered her answer.

"Um, yeah, I guess," she eventually said with a shrug and turned back to Lark. "I watched W.I.T.C.H. a lot."

"Good!" Lark's face brightened and she clapped her hands. "Right—well, take that and apply it to this situation!"

Rhonda, instead, stared at her.

"We're fairies that can control each of the elements, chosen by a magical necklace so we can lead a rebellion in a fantasy world to take back the throne of our best friend who's entire life has been a lie?"

Lark blinked then looked to me.

I crossed my arms and stayed silent, not helping her with this one.

She scrunched her nose and turned back to Rhonda. ". . . Okay, no—never mind, it's not like that, it's just . . ."

And then she fell silent.

Her mouth was still opening, forming into weird shapes, but no words were coming out. Her eyes stuck to her hands as she tried articulating whatever the fuck was happening in her brain. I exchanged a look with Nel, who also looked less than impressed, then turned back to the flustered redhead.

"Y'know," I clucked my tongue. "You're really bad at this."

"Piss off!"

Rhonda's eyebrows snapped up.

I let out a small whistle. "I didn't know you cursed, little miss perfect."

"I didn't think you knew how to curse," Rhonda added, her voice now raspy as she stared at Lark with wonder.

Lark rolled her eyes at that, hair swishing over her face as she smacked the back of her head against the wooden boards. Her expression twisted and beneath the mask, I could see that her face was welling up red with frustration. I opened my mouth when a thud came from behind us.

My heart leapt into my throat. Lark jolted from the wall, eyes wide with alert, and Rhonda jumped. Our gazes met, and their panic hit me, like a nail to the stomach. The air tensed. Rhonda was barely moving, it was like thousands of invisible restraints popped up to loop around her limps, keeping her in place. The only stirring was in her eyes, which darted around, like she was trying to make sense of this, or to perhaps wake up. Her chin occasionally jutted around, stiffly. The red was fading from Lark's face, heat sunk from her pores, and her hair burnt bright against her white skin.

We exchanged looks of dread then turned back to the counter.

Shadows, I could see them moving. The sound of feet scuffled cold across the dirt. Something hot pounded against my ribs. I raised my chin, lifting my eyes to the roof. Light fanned out against the ceiling, warm and summer toned, and across it, were those same shadows.

They resembled blobs, I watched as they moved to the right, one after the other. I tried counting, but I soon lost track. I couldn't see shit from down here. Blood pounded in my hands, making them shake. I rose onto my knees, feeling my head spin, and peered over the counter.

The sight wasn't surprising, but I still felt an involuntary gasp scratching up my throat. The Mutants were back, pouring out into the space between the booths, like one large body of shadows. Growls rolled in, filling the grounds. Their eyes were mismatched, but I could see them tracing the booths that surrounded them, searching. Trembles raced down my spine. But I couldn't look away. I knew that I should move, but I felt bolted to the spot, all I could do was count the figures. But for some reason, my brain couldn't process the numbers. I had no idea how many there were.

A slight warmth graced both my left and right sides, Lark and Rhonda had moved to kneel beside me. I looked to my right; Rhonda was still stiff, but her eyes were unguarded, wide and glossy. The muscles in her throat had clamped, I couldn't tell if she was swallowing her salvia or saving it, and the pit between her brows had knotted.

I felt my stomach clench, and quickly looked to Lark. Her eyes flickered to mine. They were bright, toned jewels, sparkling like they'd been left in the sun. She briefly glanced over my shoulder to Rhonda and her lips curved downwards, expression shuffling with guilt.

"Bad news," I said lowly, glancing once more at the Mutant's before slipping back to the ground, crouching onto my feet.

I tapped on Rhonda's arm. I felt the muscles in my chest tighten, almost expecting her to bark at me and set everything off, but when she looked at me, those worries dissolved. Her defences were down, drained from our surroundings, and now I was left staring at a girl I never would've pinned as Rhonda. Not only because of the face, but the behaviour.

She looked so lost, so unsure. She'd always held such opinions on Blue Jay and Lark, but she didn't look any deeper into them than clickbait headlines of twitter articles. She still didn't know anything about this world, even less than others. It made my words choke. Everything had happened so fast, we couldn't have been out here for more than half an hour. That wasn't nearly enough time to let everything sink in. She was just thrown into the hot water, without explanation or comfort.

Her eyes slowly wound, finding mine. She blinked and then followed my movements, sitting back down and settling her back against the wall. Her expression didn't change though. I'm not even sure she'd noticed that she'd moved.

I knew I should say something, we had a job to do, but I couldn't help watching her. The way her face had fallen, it made my stomach squirm. Just minutes ago, she was yelling and making a racket, like Rhonda would. But she was so quiet, so despondent. It was so not like Rhonda. She was always so bright with her confidence, it was overwhelming. She entered a room and immediately, you were aware of it. It made me wonder, what was it about Rhonda that made her worthy of being a Guardian?

Lila made sense; she had been born for this life. It fell into place, like this had always been her lifelong plan. But Rhonda, I couldn't work out. Hell, to an extent, I still hadn't worked out what it was about me that made me worthy. Was it just my stubbornness? That stupid gene that Bob liked to claim made Pataki's different from everyone else? For some reason, that made my insides sour. I didn't want that to be the reason, there had to be something else.

Looking at Rhonda, it felt like some type of spell had been broken. The numbness in my brain, it was decaying. Peeling back to reveal a pain that twisted in familiar patterns and pounded a jagged hole into my chest. It yawned, searching for one thing—answers. I became aware that there was still so much about this situation that I knew little about. Who was Acantha, where did she come from? What was her relationship with Serec? Why did they want to destroy everything? Was there more of them? Where did Nel come from? Where did our trinkets come from? Who decided someone was worthy, the trinket or the carrier of the trinkets?

The questions rushed, buzzing in my ears. It felt like a weight had dropped into my chest. I realised, with ice cold blood, that . . . I didn't know anything. What had we been brought into?

I didn't know how long I stayed watching Rhonda, but I came back when I felt a light tap on my elbow. I jumped and looked up to Lark's crooked smile. Her eyes were twinkling as she shoved her bangs from her face and said, "Best we go settle that, hadn't we?"

She tilted her head, like we were in a totally normal situation. I forced myself to smile, ignoring that lodged feeling burn my throat. The wooziness from before still pressed against my head and made the ground surge beneath my feet like sand. But I smiled and tried to let an easing comfort chase that fear away. Because, even if I'd been kept in the dark and placed in a fight I knew nothing about, I wasn't alone.

But my face settled back into a frown when I looked over my shoulder.

"I trust you can explain to Ms. Smartypants all she needs to know?" I asked, voice hardening. My gaze buried into Nel's and I felt my stomach tighten as her face twisted back to mine. Her eyes shimmered, looking like pots brimming to the rim, full of questions—of words that she wanted to say.

I tightened my jaw. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear her out.

She must've read the ticks in my face. The look in her eyes froze before she sighed, nodding, and lowered her face.

Rhonda scowled, coming back to earth. "Hey—"

"Good," I nodded then rose to my feet.

Light scuffled across my face as I picked myself up from the ground. Air pushed against my cheeks, both cooling and roasting my skin. I heard Lark shuffle, quickly standing to join me, and when I turned to look at her, snarls and cries filled the air.

The noises made us jump, spinning around seconds before the Mutants began sprinting. The air sharpened and a hot spasm of fear lanced my throat. Feet stamped into the ground, bursts of noises that hit me like rocks, as sharp barb–like claws scrapped the wind. Shudders pressed beneath my feet. The Mutants loomed black, drenched in shadows, as glimmering beads hurled from between their sharp teeth.

I heard Rhonda gasp, having peeked over the edge of the counter, and slowly crawl backwards so she wasn't spotted. But Lark on the other hand, she pressed her teeth together—in either a smile or a grimace—and stepped forward, fists tightening. She swung her hands, shooting out a wire from her wrist, which soared high into the night. It snapped straight, having caught onto something, and again, she took another step forward. I copied her movements, shooting out my own wires, but as Lark kicked off into the air, I looked over my shoulder.

"Oh, and Nel?"

I was surprised I could talk. The cat glanced up but I kept my appearance maintained and guarded.

"No more lies," I told her.

The words passed between us like a breeze, one that left my chest hollow. I felt dazed and unsure of whether that was because of the energy that had been taken from me, or because of my new revelations. I never thought I would be here, questioning what she said to me, trying to decipher what was true and what was not. Shadows were bleeding into shapes. I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn't the only one who liked to keep secrets, and that it was possible that not every move Nel made was to benefit us.

Rhonda glanced between us, unsure of what to do, but I kept my focus on Nel. Not her eyes though, I couldn't look at them. Instead, I focused on the high point of her forehead, the spot right between her brows. Her ears had deflated, mouth slightly sinking. Her eyes were sharp, she likely could see the millimetre difference. She knew I wasn't looking at her. But she nodded anyway.

I didn't spare her another glance after that. Clamping my mouth shut, I twisted on the balls of my feet then allowed the wire to yank me into the air.

The way that it cut me—the sharp, twisting spirals of air—made my stomach jump into my chest. The force slicked my hair back, so that it was pressed against my head, whipping back and forth like a golden rope. I clacked my teeth together then knocked my feet into a Mutant's crooked nose. The force pushed it back, blood spurting out with a sickening crack! and I kicked off into a flip until the earth was back beneath my feet.

The night was spinning, turning into a mosaic of colours. Eyes and limbs and shapes splattered everywhere. I shook my face, touching a palm to my temple as if to rouse the dizziness from my mind, then pressed my back up against Lark's.

The warmth grounded me, anchoring me back until my feet were pressed flat into the ground. I rested the back of my head against hers and felt her warmth graze my scalp. Her shoulders were moving, I could hear the ragged breaths she was sucking in, and knew she was as nauseous as me.

Fucking Mutants.

Heat pooled in my fingertips, and in the blink of an eye, the knife was back in my hand. I sighed with relief, forgetting how much more protected I felt with it. It was like the soothing breeze to my inner storm, softening the jangled melody racing through me.

Lark swung out her rod, pushing out a short swipe of air, and pressed more weight into her heels.

And when we looked up, Mutants surrounded us.

A strain rose in my throat and began to claw. I swallowed it back and glanced around. The figures around us were no longer concealed in dense shadows, they loomed over us, unmasked. Sharp streaks of white rained down and burned cold against their skin. Sounds rushed in, clapping into us like they were waves, so heavy it felt like I was drowning.

"Same old, same old," Lark remarked over their growls, speaking from the corner of her mouth without looking away from them.

I cracked a smile and replied, "Wouldn't have it any other way."

We then split, bolting in opposite directions.

I jumped, landing on my palms, and slammed my feet into a Mutant that had been coming at me. The collusion bulged in my knees, but I heard the Mutant flying backwards and hitting one of the stalls. Blood rushed and curled in my ears, but I smirked, and swung until I was back on my feet. The breath stung my chest, and I swung the knife around in my fingers, looking for my next target, when something smashed into my temples.

The world spun and I found myself on the ground, skin ablazed from the impact. A hot ache swelled in my temple. Sickly ringing screamed in my ears. The ground distorted, moving like a black lake, and the stars became like white streaks across the dirt. My ribs grazed my skin as I coughed and tried moving, but my bones felt so heavy.

It was like someone was holding me down. I tried lifting my head, but just felt it smack back down again. Heat crawled into my ears. My skin prickled and tingled, and my head spun. The air no longer felt light, it hit me like fog, settling into my stomach like a weight, as shadows pooled the corner of my vision.

A chill swept over me and as it did, my mind wandered—back to Rhonda. Replaying that scene in my head—her shouting those magic words and being engulfed in that light, then walking out a different woman. Physically, at least. She was still the same beneath that skin, always complaining, always loud, and unable to see past her own point of view.

Except when she wasn't. The same, I mean. I couldn't shake that expression from my mind, that haunted look in her eye. She was always so bright, so loud, so there, it's like she had been dowsed. My chest burned with familiarity. I knew that feeling—that fear, so gaping and unavoidable, it held you down like chains. The heaviness that pounded against your ribs was strong enough to shatter your bones, as goosebumps spiked along your spine like knives. And that dizzying sense of confusion that made the room spin, the what now? How am I supposed to do any of this? This is a mistake. It wasn't like how it was in the movies; it wasn't as simple as a protagonist being different from everyone else, and that difference was what made them perfect to save everybody. We were ordinary—we were all normal girls. Average. There was nothing significant about us; nothing super intelligent, or strong, or athletic. We didn't have the background or even the answers to justify us being here.

It wasn't as simple as picking up crimefighting because it was the right thing to do. It wasn't as simple as putting on a mask and boom, you were a different person. It was demanding, it was awkward, it was unfair. It couldn't be wrapped up neatly in ninety minutes; I'd been fighting for two and a half months, and I stillhadn't adjusted.

It was hard.

Why were we chosen?

I frowned, hearing a scraping noise, and opened my eyes—realising they'd even been closed in the first place—to see a blade descending for my face. I gasped and felt an electrifying rush push up my chest as I rolled out of the way. My stomach slid up into my throat, squelching like jelly, when a flash of silver slashed down where I was headed.

Gritting my teeth, I stopped and rolled back, feeling another blade graze the back of my head. I came to a halt on my back, a blade on either side of my face, and found myself staring up into a deranged face with startingly blue lips and wide eyes.

The Mutant had jagged, white teeth, slightly tilted forward as its tongue struggled to stay behind its lips. It had sharp, knife–like arms, which were so close, I could hear them still ringing from the strikes against the ground. I could feel the soft folds of air, wobbling off the vibrating blades and bouncing against my face. I swallowed, feeling my heart pound like someone was kicking my chest. I couldn't make any movements, the blades were much too close, raising my chin was the most I could do.

The Knife Mutant's hair hung like obsidian curtains, fanning its angular face. Its forehead furrowed, teeth gritting so hard I could hear salvia sloshing against them. Its eyes narrowed. A growl wretched from its throat as it dislodged its left arm from the ground, pulling it back so that the blade glinted in the moonlight.

But instead of looking at the blade, I found myself staring at Knife Arm's eyes. I could see myself in their haze, slammed against the ground. My hair was fanned out, strands falling from its confines, and laid like a carpet across the dirt. My chest was heaving. My jaw had dropped against my collarbone, and my eyes—they looked like domes. Two pools of cerulean that shimmered like spotlights against the black mask. There was a dewiness to them, like they were filled to the brim with tears; she looked so helpless.

"Why was I chosen as a Guardian?"

The words weighed against me. Pressing in, pushing up, bunching together at the forefront of my mind.

Everything slowed; the noise of the blade, plunging down for me, froze. There was a beating in my chest—heavy, powerful—I could feel it throb in my knees. I didn't have to think back to that day, the emotions had already found me.

"You're not resigning, are you?"

I frowned, remembering that that had been her first concern. That was always her concern—how it affected the Guardians. Never me, never Helga.

Always Blue Jay.

"No."

It made my throat thicken, thinking back to that day. To being that hollow shell, burnt out, and dry of any hope.

"No, don't worry, I won't resign."

Even when I wanted too. I wanted to run, I wanted to escape—I wanted to be selfish. I missed being selfish. I was a teenager; it was my last time to be selfish. But now, I had to pretend that I wasn't selfish, to keep putting others before me. I couldn't even be miserable without that carrying over into my actions, without that resulting in someone's safety being jeopardised.

I couldn't be myself anymore.

"I'll never have to be Blue Jay again."

My eyes cooled, freezing over.

"You are Blue Jay."

And baring my teeth, I smashed my shin against Knife Arm's crotch. The Mutant howled, a sound that drilled into my head, and I slammed my vambrace out into its other blade. The Mutant fell, losing its balance, and I jerked my fist up into its jaw. The force knocked Knife Arms back and I sat up, touching my throat and gulping down air like I'd been deprived of it.

The Mutant stumbled then hit the ground with a thud! and quickly, I jumped onto my feet, about to call my knife when I heard a whistle. I ducked back, launching onto my hands then swinging back onto my feet. Dust ripped through the air; shapes became blotched as the world danced, but I propped up my fists defensively.

I was staring at another Mutant; this one larger, but with a permanent grin. The grin reached the sides of its face, like it was a mask being held up by its ears, and diamond shaped eyes glimmered. I grimaced, feeling my stomach shift at the unexpected and unappreciated sight. They couldn't start making these fuckers at least normal looking?

It charged, moving surprisingly fast for its size. I swivelled out of the way, calling my knife back into my hands, then spun on the balls of my feet. I struck, feeling the blade nick something, and pushed down. The knife plunged into the grinning Mutant's forearm, and the Mutant howled. Blood sprayed. The skin split apart, a green dam bursting forth and lapping around the blade. I hissed, turning around to make a run for it, when a black shape slammed into my face.

Pain exploded in my nose and I was thrown backwards.

Fog filled my brain as jagged edges smashed into my skin. The world was a blur; I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or if they'd shut. Nothing stopped spinning, everything revolved in one shade of black, until I heard a gasp and felt hands scrambling to catch me.

I came to a stop, slamming into something firm and warm, and the hands pressed square into my shoulder blade. My stomach had twisted, stretching up into my throat, and when I opened my eyes, I had to blink to steady my whirling vision.

Turning my face, I knew I was staring up at Lark. She was mostly just a red blob with some traces of green, but I knew it was her.

"Is it just me," I panted, voice feeling heavy, "or are these Mutants tougher than usual?"

There was a pause, I couldn't tell if she was thinking over her answer. But I could sense the muscles in her face moving as she stared down at me. I frowned, then shook my face. The colours bustled, fattening for a moment, then slowly residing, slipping back where they belonged.

There was still a fuzziness, but my vision was settling back into place. I could see Lark's lips pressing together and her skin furrowing with confusion. But then the hairs on the back of my neck prickled and we both parted, rolling out of the way as a Mutant charged for us.

The world stumbled and I slammed my hands against a counter, flattening them across the surface. The air thickened, flooding my nostrils, and then curdling in my stomach. The wind had knocked the pulse from my ears, all I could hear was a ringing. There was a throbbing in my abdomen, kicking up a fuss in my chest, and almost knocking my weight over. And my pulse was drumming in my feet and wobbling in my ankles.

I shut my eyes and sucked in deep breaths. I tried using that rattling beat, hammering against the ground, as a weight. Tried pulling back my focus, centring everything back to me. I tilted my head back, stretching out my neck to let the cool air settle against my skin. It slithered around my neck and curled around my ears. It slowly nulled the ringing, dulling it until it was a background noise, and I could hear the wind again.

I let out another breath through my nose but opened my eyes when I heard a noise. I lowered my jaw, seeing Lark jumping into the air. She twirled and slammed the side of her foot into the Mutant's face. It roared and flew back, smacking into another booth with such a force that I spotted some of the boards snapping.

I glanced back at Lark as she bent down to pick her rod up from the ground.

"No," she panted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and glaring up ahead. I followed her gaze and groaned, seeing another Mutant charging for us. "We're just drained."

I frowned at that, opening my mouth to rebuttal when a dark shape came at me. I spun as a fist zoomed for my face and quickly dodged to the side. Everything was still so hazy, I found myself on the ground, landing on my elbows.

I huffed, scrabbing back the strands from my face when I heard a cluttering noise. Glancing up, I felt my jaw drop as the wooden boards split apart, the structure of the booth collapsing beneath the Mutant's fist. Wooden splinters flew, raining across the dirt like snow, and the Mutant turned back around. It lifted it's fist from what was left of that fractured counter and let loose a threatening growl.

I scrunched my face into a frown, knowing damn well that it had been aiming for me.

The Mutant moved forward but I slashed my hand through the air and, faster than a bullet, my knife came zooming in, tearing through the Mutant's flesh. Seconds ticked away like heartbeats as I rolled out of the way before the explosion could hit me.

I landed on the balls of my feet, one hand pressed against the ground, the other patting the frizzled ends of my hair. I heard a cry and looked over, spotting Lark fighting the Knife Arms. She was flipping from her hands to her feet then back again, avoiding the knives swinging for her like helicopter blades.

I raised my eyebrows, too impressed to be bitter that she was faring way better than I had. But then Knife Arms smashed its knee up into Lark's face. I gasped, hands flying to my mouth as Lark stumbled backwards. The rod cluttered to the ground. Her copper hair flung around like sheets of fire as she slammed into one of the booths.

She heaved her palm against the counter, cupping her nose as she blinked to steady her vision. But when she raised her chin, her hair parted and revealed the bruises along her jaw. She then moved her hand to wipe away some of the blood and shove her hair back, and I noticed the long cut across the bridge of her noise.

I grimaced, knowing that had to hurt like a bitch.

She glanced up as the Mutant swung for her and ducked, twisting to the side as the blade came down and lodged into the counter behind her. Knife Arms bared its teeth, placing one foot against the booth, and tried to lodge itself free. Without tilting her face, Lark's attention flickered to the right, recognising the shape that had been approaching her from behind. She rolled her eyes then slammed her foot into Knife Arm's stomach, sending the bladed creature clattering into another Mutant, who had been taking its chances on Lark through a sneak attack.

She stood there for a moment, waiting for them to get up but when they didn't, she slumped forward and held onto her stomach. Her hair filtered around her face as she heaved her breaths in and out, in and out.

"Okay," she panted, glancing at me before bending to pick up her rod. She swiped her hair back again, huffing when her bangs covered her forehead, and moved to stand by my side. "Maybe they're a little tougher."

I cocked a brow.

But before either of us could say anything more, there was another howl that ripped through the air. We glanced up to see a beefy looking Mutant bolting for us, and quickly sprang apart when it launched a fist. My chest tightened, bones crying out from the strain, and when I turned around, Lark had sent a kick to the back of the Mutant's knees, knocking it down.

"How do you think Nel's going?" I asked, ducking beneath another fist.

I dropped to one knee then sent my knife rippling through the Mutant's thigh. It screamed and I hurled out my wire, kicking off and swinging until my feet smashed into another Mutant's face.

I landed back on the ground, stumbling a bit, and spotted Lark shrugging. She ducked beneath a fist then dropped to her knee to deliver an uppercut. As the Mutant stumbled, she threw me a look.

"I'm sure it's going fine."

---

"So, let me get this straight," Rhonda's head was buzzing as she slammed her hands together in a prayer formation. "You're an alien and you've been sent by more aliens to recruit people like us—so called Guardians—so we can fight other aliens? Only these ones are bad because their leader is that abominable snowman freak?"

She was, of course, somehow directing this question at the talking black cat in front of her.

Cats don't talk, her reminded her yet again, aware that words were leaving the cat's mouth but unable to register them. Or, they shouldn't talk.

Admittedly, Rhonda wasn't the smartest girl at Hillwood High. Granted, she wasn't as stupid as people liked to pretend she was anyway (and personally, she chalked that up to misogyny; her status as a cheerleader often led to her and her team members being degraded and assumed to be below a moderate level of intelligence. Rhonda found this belief to be ridiculous; not only was cheerleading a highly competitive, fast paced and technique–based sport, her friends, as far as she was concerned, were just as intellectually capable as any other student. Sexism, she often reminded her team, was behind the way people viewed them). But regardless, she was more than aware that cats, they don't posses the ability to replicate dialect that humans used to communicate with one another.

That just wasn't a thing. It wasn't possible.

Granted, superheroes and monsters shouldn't be possible either and yet here she was, surrounded by them and apparently, one of them herself. She barely had even scratched the surface of that whole thing, she was still trying to understand the cat stuff, let alone that she . . .

Her vision shifted down to her hands, although she couldn't feel herself moving.

She hadn't noticed, but she'd curled them into fists and tucked them into her sides. Like she was trying with all her might to stand her ground, like a child who didn't want to go where their parents insisted on dragging them.

Or, well, Rhonda assumed anyway.

It only was now beginning to sink in that she no longer looked like herself. Everything had happened so quickly, one minute they were running for their lives, the next they were all fighting. Then, everyone was gone again, fighting for their lives again. It had all been a rush, she'd barely had time to blink before she was left here, tucked away in the shadows, trying to comprehend what was being told to her.

She hadn't been given a chance to glance at herself yet. Although, they hadn't yet come across a reflective surface where she could see herself, butt still, given how differently Helga and Lila looked, it did pique her interest.

Because Jesus Christ, did she feel different.

She hadn't realised it before, but now that she was like this, she realised how breakable it was to be Rhonda—the before Rhonda. It was like her skin had been made of paper, her bones glass, because now she felt strong. She hadn't done much other than rotate between standing and running, but now she moved with so much power, with so much speed, it left her rattled. Like she'd left all of her thoughts behind with the—wait, what were they called again? Rhonda frowned. Monsters? Mammoths? Mutants?

Either way, she felt different. Like her bones had been supercharged; they moved so easily now, like someone had oiled her joints. They were lighter, her movements sharper, and Rhonda could feel her muscles almost pulsating, wanting to be used. It scared her how much this new body seemed designed to fight, how much the urge rolled over her in thick waves. It was like fire had hardened her edges; a new power rippled across her skin in pulsating patterns and settled deep into her biceps.

She suddenly became aware of a silkiness that bundled beneath her fingers. Soft strands climbing until they were wrapped around her nails. She blinked, realising that she'd reached up to touch her hair, as if reminding herself that she wasn't really . . . herself.

When she was the before Rhonda, her hair was short. Ever since she could remember, she cut her hair short so to maintain a clean, professional appearance. The dark velvet that sprouted from her scalp, raining down in plush, satiny strands, never went further then her shoulders. But now, she could hair bouncing between her shoulder blades, held together in a half braid.

It was different, not something she was used too. She liked to maintain her stylish bob and expected to feel disgusted or annoyed with this rapid change, but for some reason, it didn't bother her.

She ran her fingers over the strands hanging over her face and felt her lips curling into a tiny smile.

It still felt hollow in her chest, like everything she'd earlier been feeling had been chiselled out, leaving her ribs ready to cave in from the nothingness. But still, something about her new look—this new feeling—it did let in a bit of light. She could feel relief weaving in between her ribs, wriggling through like hot smoke, and bursting into small, hopeful rays.

There was so much going on in her head—so much that faded into a low, gentle thrum, leaving her in a daze—but somehow, she registered a slight comforting feeling. Like she was settling into the arms of a long lost friend. She didn't know what was going on, but something didn't feel completely off about this new body.

"I mean, yes, in a certain sense, but it's, er, a little more, erm, complicated, or complex rather than that . . ." she heard and, blinking, she found herself looking back to Nel's face.

Right. Somehow, she had almost forgotten—she was talking with a cat. Suddenly, her temples became hot as the thoughts that had once become a thrum sharpened into razor hot pikes, melting holes in her brain.

Somehow, it was the cat that made all of this real—whatever it was. It had all of those news reports flashing through her mind, attacking her like white hot flashes. The events she had earlier brushed off like they were nothing, meaningless gossip that held as much value to her as sports entertainment did, was now being shoved right at her.

In the form of a cat.

Wait, no, not a cat. What was it that Lila—fuck, Lark, she was Lark, that dorky redhead she'd known since fourth grade was a fucking superhero—had said? That she was an alien? Rhonda wasn't sure whatever that made the situation better or worse.

"Excuse me, are you even listening to me?"

The voice hardened and Rhonda found herself being glared at. The cat drew her ears back against her head and her eyes hardened, like purple crystals. Rhonda wasn't familiar with this cat, but she suddenly felt like a daughter being scolded by her mother, and snapped her mouth shut.

"Uhh . . ."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Nel sighed, ducking and shaking her head. Rhonda frowned, wondering how an alien would be so familiar with earth phrases, when the cat continued. "Okay, well, let's try this again, shall we? So, you—"

There was a thud that shook the wall they were leaned up again. Rhonda felt her heart jump into her throat as she and Nel both jumped, backs now rigid straight. They twisted their bodies to glance up where the sound had come from. Seconds had barely glanced when Lark's face suddenly popped into view, sliding between them, prompting screams from both the women.

Rhonda blinked, feeling her heartbeat echo so loudly. Her body almost caved from the thumps. She looked to her right, so quick it felt like her neck had snapped, and blinked again, this time with realisation. Lark's body had been slammed across the counter, thrown by a force she couldn't see, and her neck hung from the counter edge.

She was coughing, unbothered by their screams. "Oww . . ."

"Whoa, holy shit," Rhonda found herself saying, eyes wide as she scrambled backwards. Her heartbeat still felt like a kick to the ribs, and she could feel her wrists shaking against the dirt from the force of it. "You look awful."

Lark, who was hooked over the table like a doll, raised her head. She craned her neck backwards, hair splattering across her shoulders, and when her gaze connected with them, she merely blinked like she had just realised they were there.

A shudder ran up Rhonda's back. Lark's face, it really did look messed up. There was a thick cut across her nose, and as she lifted her chin, she could see the blood drippling down her face. It coloured her cupids bow, like she had grown a vivid red moustache, and curved along her chin.

But strangely, she didn't look bothered by it. She merely wiped her nose with the back of her hand, like she had a cold, and gave them each a nod.

"Oh, hi Nel, Rhonda," she greeted them as if there wasn't a very large cut along the bridge her nose. Rhonda also spotted some thinner slices along her jaw, but it was the one across her nose that had captured her attention. "Helga was wondering how it's coming along."

"No, I wasn't!" came a distant protested, followed closely by a, "AH—shit!"

"It—it's coming along decently," Nel said with a nod.

It was certainly not coming along decently.

Rhonda glanced between them, feeling her ears burn. How were they all having such a casual conversation like this? Weren't there fucking monsters out there trying to kill them? And those injuries looked bad. Again, Rhonda watched as blood slid down Lark's nostrils, and the redhead sniffled then wiped at them again. She grimaced. Wasn't that painful? Should they get her to a hospital or something? She doubted a (possibly) broken nose was the only injury she had.

"Oh, good," instead, Lark's face smoothed over with relief, eyes glistening like disco balls. "Because we're kinda getting hammered out—oh, shit!"

She swung around, planting her elbows against the table's edge, as she swivelled out of the way of another Mutant. Rhonda released a strangled noise, her scream getting caught on its way out as the thing crashed in Lark's place.

The collusion echoed; Rhonda could see the rickety boards shake from the force. It wasn't hard to see why. The Mutant was a hulking grey mass of muscle, with a face that consisted of glowing eyes and skin that folded over itself. Rhonda felt her throat begin to close up and it suddenly became a lot more difficult to breathe. That thing had been aiming to throw a massive punch at Lark. It was so abnormally large—way bigger than any human she had ever seen—Rhonda was sure that one hit from that would've broken Lark's face.

But thankfully, the girl's reflexes were apparently much faster than Rhonda's eyes—who hadn't even seen this happening until it was too late—and with her quick movements, the fist had come down onto the table instead. The noise it produced cracked sharp, Rhonda could feel the tremors running into her palms. Both her and Nel scrambled further away from the situation. She lightly registered that now Nel was curled into a ball by her side, ears once again pressed to her head.

Miraculously, the table hadn't broken from the impact. Lark's face scrunched, her nose wrinkling and her lips pulled back to reveal gritted teeth. She released a noise as she slammed her foot into the Mutant's side, and the beast let out a strangled noise as it slammed to the ground. Lark hit it again with her foot over its back, slamming the Mutant from its hands and knees onto its face.

"Blue Jay!" she suddenly yelled, looking up.

And when Rhonda followed her line of sight, she felt her mouth drop lower. She was already a tall girl, even as herself, and in this body, she was even taller, so she didn't need to stand to spot Blue Jay. She merely straightened her back and rose her chin and immediately, she saw the blonde stick out like a star amongst the black sky.

Her hair was like a blinding yellow light burnishing against her suit. The strands were escaping their confines, it looked like a third of her hair was either smacked against her temples or running down her back.

Rhonda couldn't be sure how long they had both been fighting—time was slipping through her fingers and she could barely grasp onto it—but she was surprised by her posture. Rhonda knew that, had that been her, she would be next to half dead on the ground. Even as a cheerleader, they weren't required to do so much work.

And for some reason, that thought made the realisation that this was Helga—Helga Pataki, residential grump of Hillwood High, and, as Rhonda liked to call her, a complete and utter meathead—and Helga apparently was Blue Jay. As in, the superhero. The apple of Hillwood's eye, the golden girl. Not that Rhonda had all been that interested or even supportive of her, but still, that was insane.

She'd seen Blue Jay on TV, seen odd clips posted of her on twitter, and short compilation videos on youtube (her best friend, Nathalie, was obsessed with her. She took it as a challenge to get Rhonda to like her). Even she had to admit that the power and skill this woman radiated was crazy. Something she'd only seen in music videos, where beautiful women danced and fiercely glared at the camera while they sang or rapped about female independence.

Not exactly the same thing but still, similar energy.

How was that—all that she was looking at right now—all the result of Helga? How could this girl manage to pull it off, and for as long as she did? Never in a million years would she have guessed that it was Helga behind the mask. How could she? She was just so dorky. And clumsy and emotional, not to mention way in over her head. Oh, and she liked to pretend she was the centre of the universe, listening to sad songs while she hung around in the shadows. How was she able to go from that to this?

The blonde came to a halt when she heard her name being called; her back snapped straight and her chin glanced her shoulder as she turned her head in Lark's direction. For a moment, Rhonda was taken back by how she—Helga Pataki—was able to carry her weight so evenly, barely looking like she was out of breath. She paused when Blue Jay's gaze flickered over to hers for a split second, as if checking her over.

There was a hissing sound, followed by a small squishing noise, and when Rhonda glanced back, Lark had fired her spiderman web thingy (what the hell did they even call them?) into the Mutant's body. Her red hair swished as she glanced back up, hooking her gaze onto Blue Jay's, and pulled back her lips.

"Catch!"

She ran forward, wire snapping straight, and flung her wrist. Somehow, the Mutant, despite its massive size, was yanked from the ground and into the air in a perfect arc. Rhonda gaped, wondering how Lila—little, barely 5'2" Lila—had managed to throw such a massive creature with so little effort.

And Blue Jay didn't even pause, it was like she was already on Lark's wavelength. Her face hardened as she tossed her knife, sending the weapon sailing through the air. And surprisingly, Rhonda found that she was able to keep sight of the thing. Anytime she caught glimpses of Blue Jay in those videos—right as she was about to defeat the monster—she was always throwing her knife. And as much as she complained about its simplicity in the past, the weapon always moved so fast that she could never keep up with it, no matter how many times she rewound the table. It was like one minute Blue Jay was dangling a knife between her fingers, then the next, it was in the eyes or the shoulders of whichever unfortunate opponent decided to fight her.

But somehow, Rhonda's eyes were much faster. It was like before, they had been stuck in slow motion and now someone had hit the button on the remote, finally setting her free. She could now see in HD, in fast motion, and could latch onto Blue Jay's knife.

It was moving fast, but she could see it. Every nanosecond it was in the air. Moonlight bounced from the blade and onto the ground, quickly puddles of light flashing as the weapon sailed. Rhonda felt the breath wriggle in her chest; for the first time since the superheroine had appeared, she could see the magic happening, right up until the knife lodged into the Mutant's neck.

Rhonda had heard about it, but she had never actually seen it happening—the kill. She always exited the video before it happened. She had a rough idea of how it looked in her head, replaying a scene she'd seen in an action movie one time, but actually seeing it was an entirely different thing.

The noise it made was sickening, she could feel nausea tightening in her stomach. Her lungs softened like they were marshmallows and suddenly, she could feel bile rising in the back of her throat. But she couldn't look away, no matter how badly she wanted to. Her neck was locked in place, her eyes wide and focused.

And then, there was the explosion.

She saw it before she heard it; a bright, sharp light shooting into her eyes. It was like someone had stuck needles straight through her eyes, right to the ends of her brain. Immediately, she fell back, covering her face. And then, it hit her—the thundering. It rung, a low crackling that felt like a million fiery sparks were snapping in her brain, pounding against her head.

She found her hands around her ears, in a pained attempt to stop the ringing. How could they do this? How did they ever grow used to this? Through the white that seared her brain, Rhonda recounted the looks she had seen on both Helga and Lila's face, right before they had run into battle (that word still made her shiver).

They had been smiling—smiling. How? Rhonda was shaking. She was nowhere near what was happening and still, she shook. She was scared. How could they do anything but run and hide? She felt her heart pound, billowing through her bones, and sloshing against her insides. How could they not only willingly fight, but do so with smiles on their faces?

Rhonda uncovered her face, wanting answers, but found herself alone.

Lark had left, heading back to fight the Mutants, and Blue Jay's knife was back in her hand. The blonde swished around, her braid flying from behind her, and swung her weapon as she came face to face with another monster, one almost twice her height.

Rhonda blinked, feeling her heart shivering. It registered, once again, that this girl—the one fighting for her life, the one who was protecting her—she knew her. That was Helga Pataki. The dork from high school, the girl she'd known since preschool. She used to wear pink, tie her hair up in bows, and bully people. Last she had checked, Pataki was still selfish, still awkward, and still just, well, weird. What had she done to convince this cat that she was superhero material?

(And for a matter of fact, what had she, Rhonda Lloyd, done to convince this cat that she was superhero material? What about her screamed 'Hey yeah! I wanna run around at night and battle monsters!'? She never asked for, nor wanted, this!).

This scene, this hellscape, it was a dystopia. And not only was this dystopia normal to them—Pataki and Lila—but Rhonda, she knew them.

This entire time.

She felt the blood in her neck grow cold, remembering how much she had snapped at her, today alone. Every time she had yelled, or so much as glared at her, she had been doing that to Blue Jay.

Holy shit.

"What was that?!" she found herself screaming, voice now rattling hoarse in her throat, as she yanked her gaze from them back to the cat curled at her side.

The cat looked up.

Beneath the fur, Rhonda could see her forehead wrinkling as the cat glanced from the fight than back to them.

She sighed, a mixture of dread and relief, then turned back to Rhonda.

"Okay, lets try this again—"

---

It was far too hot.

The air swarmed; it looped over my face like a damp cloth and smothered me until sweat was popping from my pores. The breath that left me was warm and short, hot puffs of air, it was like someone was holding a hand to my face so that the breath came back over me. My chest blistered, in a way where it felt like my limbs were empty sacks, and a pounding climbed my throat to scream in my temples.

Everything knotted together; my surroundings were hazy and cloudy. With a shudder, I moved my braid to wipe the sweat from my face then wiped my hands on my pants. I tried not to think about the murkiness crawling into the corners of my vision, or the soft swaying beneath my feet. It made a metallic tasting nausea rise from my stomach, swirling up my throat and swishing between my teeth, but I shook my head and forced myself to swallow it back down.

I looked up.

Found myself staring at another Mutant.

This one was scraggly looking; it was tall, with long and thick limbs and a thick snout with protruding nostrils. Its eyes were shadowed, jagged teeth splitting apart into a snarl, and from head to toe, it was covered in loose, white hairs, making it resemble a yeti. But the hairs were so sparse, so thin, that beneath, you could see that its blue skin was cracked, like tiles drying out in the sun.

It paused, setting its sights on me, and hurled out another growl before charging into a sprint. Its footfalls were heavy and shook the ground, as its fists—larger than my torso—tightened and swung by its side.

I sighed and raised my fists, preparing myself for yet another fight. This shit just never seemed to end.

A second barely passed when its fist came hurtling for my face. I ducked to the right, avoiding the hit, but the Mutant quickly swivelled around and attacked again. I jerked backwards and shot out my wire, launching my knee into the Mutant's face as I was tugged from the ground. The Mutant rolled backwards, hands flying to cover its nose, and feeling my knife swish back into my fingers, I sent the blade rolling. There was a split second where the metal slashed across the Mutant's shoulder before light and dust were slung across my face.

Heat seared the air as sound rushed through me, pressing deep into my ears. Grains of sweat sizzled up from my tingling skin. I clacked my teeth together and tightened my grip, feeling myself twirl through ribbons of scorching air.

The breeze was a hard slap. It grazed me so violently that my vision blotched. I could feel my lungs painfully ringing, like someone was holding two cushions against them, squeezing the air out until they were two saggy bags. I threw myself backwards, prompting my bones to move on instinct, and feeling the cold rush battle against the powerful, hot swipes, until—

Thud!

—I felt myself landing back on my feet.

The air whooshed back into my chest, almost throwing itself into the seat of my lungs like a bag full of stones. My braid slapped against my wet neck, swinging between my shoulder blades. The unbearably hot air vanished, dissipating into nothing, as a flood of chilliness rolled across my face. I rose my chin to allow that cold to whirl around my neck, sighing as it collected over my roasted skin, but quickly threw my arms out when the dizziness caught up with me.

I felt my stomach roll, thrashing around in my abdomen, and slipping back up into my throat as my knees buckled. I blinked several times, keeping my mouth shut as I regained my balance, sucking in extra thick and short breaths. I knew that a lot was still happening around me, it was like being in the middle of a film scene, where everything was happening at once.

I sucked in another breath then wrapped my hands around my knees, ducking my head as I studied the grass beneath my feet. They were mostly thin, wiry barbs draped in shadows, but I studied each and every curl, every sparse arc, every contour until my sight began to stabilise. Until there wasn't a violent whirling that made bile simmer in my throat, or an urgency to keep my mouth clamped in fear of that bile making it any further upwards.

Breath curled from my lips, and I slowly raised my chin, pushing back my shoulders. I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to wipe away the outpour of sweat that rushed down my spine, then stuck out my hand. My knife instantly weaved between my fingers, and I felt some of the unease dislodge.

Still got work to do, H.

Right.

I turned on the balls of my feet, heartbeat battering against my blade, ready to continue to fight.

But everything was still.

I blinked then looked around, doing double—triple—sweeps with my eyes, trying to make out every shadowed movement from the corner of my vision. But . . . nothing. The area around me, it was empty.

No one else stood near, save for Lark.

I released another breath, shoulders slumping, but didn't lower my weapon. That was weird, I was expecting something much harder given Serec had actually decided to show up tonight.

I turned in Lark's direction. "Was that all of them?"

She glanced up.

Her hands were wrapped around her rod and her knees were bent, like she had just landed in a fierce pounce and was preparing herself for more fights. Her eyes hooked onto mine and she frowned, looking more concerned with my appearance than anything else. Light glided along her face, emphasising the height of her cheekbones, and her eyes glimmered. The blood along her face had dried, it crackled, like paint baked from the sun, and as the corners of her mouth quirked, I noticed the bruise on the corner of her bottom lip.

She then stopped when she saw the perplexment on my face. Her eyes widened and she looked around, forehead crinkling when she realised that yeah, apparently we were the only ones left.

She lowered her rod in one hand, moving her bangs from her face with the other. Moonlight spilled down her hair, dipping in the red loops, and beamed against her skin. It stuck to the parts that were beaded with sweat, making her look almost holy.

I scrunched my mouth to the side. How did she come out of that fight looking decent? Sure, she still had that cut, but honestly, it made her look like the protagonist in an action movie. I, on the other hand, looked like a hot mess.

Lark then turned back to me. She looked just as puzzled as I was and opened her mouth to answer when a booming voice cut her off.

"Well done, ladies—record time!"

My heart almost hit my teeth and we both whirled around. I jerked my head back and forth, trying to find his face, but we were still covered in darkness. The space was open, still empty, and even if he was hidden amongst the shadows, he would stand out. He always did, a crystalline star against the night.

But he was here. The voice was distorted, but I could never not recognise it. He was ice to my heart, yet it always burned.

I found myself staring at the speakers, which should've rusted out of use years ago, and felt my feet carry me.

"Serec," I muttered in a hardened voice. Lark moved closer, hovering over me like a shadow, but I didn't turn. I kept my stare pinned onto those speakers, eyes wide and unblinking, as if he were going to pop out of them.

My heartbeat drummed in my chest, almost knocking me down, and my grip tightened around my knife. I swallowed, trying to wash all of that down and away from my notice, zeroing my focus in on him.

I knew this had been too easy.

"But, and pardon my frank, those were nothing more than appetisers, little more than a bit of fun. The main course, ladies, is a little friend of mine."

There was a thud! that had the floor shuddering. The fog in my brain dissipated, the corners of my vision re–sharpening as Lark and I swung around, looking at the source of that sound.

I froze.

It was humanoid; despite everything, its shape resembled that of an overgrown man. Light bent around its form, casting a shadow so dark, it almost blinded us. The Mutant was thick, it had bulging muscles wrapped around its limbs which seemed to go on forever. A gust of wind whistled through, whipping the wry strands of my hair around my face. And although I knew it was cooling to my skin, calming the remaining heat nestled in my pores, I couldn't feel it. The only thing I could feel—or rather, see—was this motherfucker's face.

Or rather, it's lack of face.

It was like its skin had stretched over to cover its eyes, nose and mouth, so now it was a clean, lumpy state. There were shapes where there should've have been, but no actual features. The longer I stared at it, the queasier my stomach became, and I forced my lips into a hard line.

"What the f—"

"Best of luck, ladies."

The Mutant stepped forward, slamming its fist into its palm like a cartoonish villain, and I grimaced. Light rolled down its body and made its skin glint, like it was made of armour or marble.

"Feel any stronger to use your powers?" I heard Lark ask, lightening her voice into a playful quip. I knew it was forced; I could see the jerky way she turned to me from the corner of my eyes.

"Not in the slightest," I answered around the lump in my throat. But when I turned back to her, I surprised myself by playfully smirking. "You?"

She smiled apologetically. "Unfortunately, no."

I sighed, the playfulness dissipating. She rose the corner of her lips, raising an eyebrow with a cocked motion of her head, again, silently offering her apologies. I shrugged; it wasn't her fault.

And besides, I thought as I turned back to the monster, together we could beat this thing.

Its face was already pointed in our direction as it slowly crept towards us, and for a moment, I imagined what it would look like if it had facial features. Its dark, sharp eyes would hook onto mine, neither blinking or moving, and a large Cheshire cat smile would creep along its jaw.

My stomach kept turning over, slow and sloppy, as the blood that pumped in my veins became cold. I heard Lark shuffling, swinging around her weapon as she squared her weight evenly in her feet, and urged my hands to move, readying myself for the fight.

Then, a song blasted from the speakers.

My spine snapped up straight and my heart slammed against my walls at the pounding drums and blaring electric guitars. A familiar sound. I could feel warmth thriving beneath my skin, heat curling beneath my jaw like someone was cradling me, and slowly I raised my face. Because beneath the heart pounding fear, I recognised this song.

I'm a cold heartbreaker, fit to burn and I'll rip your heart in two

"Hey, isn't this one of your favourite songs?" Lark asked, turning to me with a grin. The blood crackled with the slight scrunch of her nose, but she hardly seemed bothered. Likely couldn't feel it, the manic; she bizarrely was resistant to pain.

She paused when she saw the look on my face, however.

"Right," she said, clearing her throat, and turning her attention back to the Mutant. "Not the point, gotcha."

And I'll leave you lyin' on the bed

I rolled my eyes but cranked my neck back, enjoying the familiar sound. It pumped from the speakers and surrounded us from every direction. The sound, despite being sharp and blaring, reminded me of gold. It made me warm, I could feel the stiffness in my joints softening, and the pounding in my throat settling.

I'll be out the door before you wake 'em, it's nothin' new to you

'Cause I think we've seen that movie, too

This song took me back—away from here. Back to my room. It was one of the songs I would rock out to, hair out, no pants, and an invisible guitar clutched in my hands. Nel would roll her eyes, gaze dazed from the lack of sleep, and bark at me to turn it down. I would stick my tongue out and turn it up, chortling as she shook her head and made a face, before crying out when she would pounce and swipe at my ankles.

I could still feel those stinging slashes yet my heart warmed. I wanted to be there, far from here. I wanted to forget all about tonight, about what Serec had said, about what Nel hadn't said. I wanted to be somewhere where I wasn't on the verge of throwing up or passing out. I wanted to be in my room, memorising those creaks in the floor, and laughing as Nel threw fits about me wasting away my school nights.

'Cause you could be mine, but you're way out of line

Tarnished footsteps scattered, snapping me back to reality, and I lurched upwards with a gasp. The knife was out of my hands before I had even looked, and with starched breath, I watched as it swished through the air.

With your bitch slap rappin' and your cocaine tongue

You get nothin' done, I said, you could be mine, aw

The breeze stilled as the knife wreathed, spinning and spinning and spinning. The blade gleamed in the starlight, reflecting dazzling spots that fell deep against the grass. I watched, feeling detached and unable to do anything. I felt Lark moving beside me, her shoulders shifting, and her grip loosening around her weapon.

I glanced at her. Her face was still scrunched, her mask gathering over her nose, but I could see the slight loosening in her posture. Her eyes were narrowed, but I could see the countdown behind them. The silent tick of her tongue tapping against her teeth as she mouthed the numbers. She expected this to be over, she knew that once we defeated this one, we could go back, hopefully with our new member, and clean up all of this mess.

But, I thought as I turned back with an exasperated breath, it wasn't that easy.

The knife neared the Mutant, who wasn't slowing down, and I sucked in another breath, shutting my eyes and preparing myself for the inevitable.

Not if this was Serec's idea.

It all happened so fast, even without watching.

Even without watching, I could hear it all. The wind swirled, carrying the noises until they were pressed to my ears, like fog against glass. First, there was a snarl, then a thwack! followed with a thunk! The breeze curled like a ghostly whisper, brushing my hair against my jaw, and with it, I heard my knife. It was vibrating, trembling as it rammed into the wooden boards. Then, Lark gasped, moving as she covered her mouth, and when I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was her face. Her eyes burned against that black mask and glimmered with horror.

Now, holidays come and then they go, it's nothin' new today

Collect another memory

I turned back to the monster, which hadn't paused in its running, and felt the left side of my mouth move up. Of course, its skin was resistant.

My knife couldn't penetrate it.

"What the hell?!" Lark squawked, her jaw slack.

When I come home, late at night, don't ask me where I've been

The Mutant continued like nothing had happened, bolting like an Olympic runner. I felt my pulse rush, pushing through like a warm stream, and rattle in my jaw. Lark stepped forward before I could say anything, sweeping me back with one palm. I opened my mouth, confused, when I noticed how she was carrying her rod, and clapped my mouth shut.

Her eyes had narrowed.

Just count your stars I'm home again

Fire danced across her face, strands of her hair licked her jaw as she gave her weapon a final squeeze before throwing it over her shoulder. It soared like a javelin, and as it did, moonlight wrapped around it. The beam was bright, pulsing against the obsidian sky, and gave the rod the appearance of lightning, coming in a network of forks. For a moment, my chest sloshed. My knife was a lot smaller—weaker—but her rod packed strength, especially in a throw.

Hopefully that would—

The Mutant sliced its arm down, cutting through the air in a violent slash, and merely slapped away the rod.

I froze.

'Cause you could be mine, but you're way out of line

The weapon swung, around and around and around, like it was the broken arm of a grandfather clock, until it rammed into the ground. My chest ran cold. I blinked as the light melted from around the rod, like it was powering down, and shadows curled over it.

With your bitch slap rappin' and your cocaine tongue

My ears became hot as Lark released a shocked noise. "What the f—"

We sprung apart, dodging the Mutant's incoming attack.

You get nothin' done, I said, you could be mine

Choppy air bent around my face as I ducked and rolled across the ground. I landed on my elbows, braid slapping my neck, as sweat roared down my skin. My vision rushed to catch up with me and gritting my teeth together, I slammed my foot against the Mutant's ankle. But an ache filled my bones, running from my toes all the way to my knee.

I paused.

That fucking hurt. I could feel those ripples painfully slithering up my body and twisting around my knees. I balked; it was like hitting one of my forcefields.

I swung out of the way when the Mutant swivelled in my direction and landed on all fours, spine falling into a curve. I rose my chin in a sharp motion, looking through my bangs, and realised how exhausted I was becoming. A burning sensation travelled down my chest, spreading out in my lungs and firing up in the pit of my stomach. The air around my face was sweltering, folding snug against my cheeks, and my knees buckled beneath my weight.

I racked my brain, willing it to go a million miles per second, as I tried thinking up how to get rid of this fucker. I knew there was a catch, Serec wouldn't let our last monster for the night to be easy. He would want us to remember this; in his sick twisted mind, this was his way of repaying his dues for not showing up like he used to.

The Mutant rolled on the balls of its feet, reeling to face me, and its hand curled into a fist. The breath arched in my throat. God, I could just imagine this stupid thing smiling as it pulled its fist back over its shoulder. My eyes sharpened into a glare. I imagined all of what I felt—that exhaustion swashing in my stomach and the anger that burned hot in my chest—was moving through my eyes. I pretended that my eyes were lasers and that the harder I narrowed them, the more I could fire beams of radiation into this fucker's face. To make up for how exhausted I felt, how all I could do was watch helplessly, feeling sweat slide and mingle with my hair. Because without my powers, or even our weapons, how was I supposed to get out of this one?

But then a wire shot out, appearing from over the Mutant's shoulder, and wrapped its hooks around its wrist. The wire snapped straight and pulled the Mutant off balance. It swung around on its foot, throwing out its hands to keep from tumbling over, and with its attention diverted, I released a breath.

I glanced up, feeling the edges of my mouth curl.

Lark had a hard look on her face as she carried her weight in her heels, struggling against the Mutant's weight. She was stood across from us, along the opposite side of the stalls, and between those closely knit building. Light weaved in to flow around her; it plastered her shadow onto the dirt and cast a glimmering halo affect down her rustling hair. Her eyes were piercing and trained on the Mutant. She had her knees bent as she yielded the Mutant to her; the wire remained unbending, straight as an arrow, and yet despite all the effort she was putting in, she managed to meet my gaze with a small smile.

But then the Mutant released a noise. It roared from its chest, a sound that shattered through the night, and when I looked back, the Mutant swerved its hand to the right. The wire violently jerked, which sent Lark flying. A pounding hurtled down my throat as I watched her body flail until she had smacked into one of the booths.

Her weight was like a slap, one that made the boards snap from the force. Wood splintered everywhere as the building caved in, coming down in a loud whoosh! that had the boards clattering on top of one another like bricks.

"Lark!"

My voice cracked. Every muscle in my body seized and my throat tightened so hard, I could barely breathe. I sat up on my knees so fast that it felt like my heartbeat had jerked to the back of my throat. I stared at the collapsed booth, breath tight, as I searched for any signs of my movement.

Shadows crawled across the ruined form of the booth, turning it into a moulded shape, and a small breeze made the surrounding trees shiver. But there was nothing—nothing but silence.

Cold, hard silence.

The earth turned cold beneath my feet, like it had become ice, or maybe it was me, burning up. The breeze shifted, lifting the ends of my hair, and the leafless branches cackled. My knuckles trembled, tracing little zig zags into the dirt, and I turned my face back to the Mutant. The stupid thing was yanking the wire from its wrist, not even bothering to glance at me, like I wasn't a threat. Like I was something it could put on pause while it took an intermission.

My vision became hot as anger clotted my throat. My hair felt like lace, or hands reaching out to grab me, holding me back from doing something stupid, like Lark normally would.

But I didn't care.

Fear had hardened into hot, heavy welts. The wind grew stronger, strangely muffled, as the shadows criss crossed like fingers to lift me up. The breeze was cold against my neck, slithering between the gaps in my hair, and a shiver rolled down my spine. Thunder was pounding in my chest as the Mutant slowly turned its head, noticing my movements, and though I had no plan, I could feel my shaking fist rising.

I swallowed, hard.

But before I could make the hit, Lark's rod suddenly shot from over the Mutant's shoulder. I saw it happening in slow motion; the rod splintered the air, spinning as it neared the Mutant. Moonlight shot off the rod in a sharp beam, and as it flew, it resembled a bolt of lightning again.

I covered my eyes against the white glare. I felt the ends of my hair tickling my shoulder blades as I turned my face, scrunching my face. I counted down, waiting for the weapon to make its mark, like it always did.

But instead, I heard a small clatter.

I paused then opened my eyes, raising my face. To my surprise, the rod had missed the mark entirely. It had skated past the Mutant's shoulder only to clutter to the ground, a good few feet away from the monster.

I glanced up, frowning with confusion, and followed the Mutant's glare. It had swung its face around in the direction that the rod had come from and, finding the culprit, let out another roar. Heart pounding, I rocked the weight to the balls of my feet, peering around its buff shoulder.

My eyebrows snapped together. "Wha—"

"S–Stay away, you big mutt!" Rhonda snapped in a trembling voice. She was stood in front of the stall—the one we'd left her in—but looking past her, I saw no sign of Nel. I tried not to let that bother me, turning my focus back to the jittering girl.

It was odd, seeing this behaviour from her. Not just because it was Rhonda—although she always struck me as the type to talk big without much to show for it—but because of how she looked.

The sky's beam coiled around her, showering her like she was the main lead in a play, and turning her figure sleek with blackness. Her hair was thick, thousands of caramel threads, swirling and swarming, and twisting in the light. She curled her hands into fists and slapped them onto her hips, as if to hide her shaking.

I blinked, surprised, when the Mutant gave another roar. This one much louder, it moved like a drum beneath my feet. Rhonda jumped, her face falling, and the Mutant roared again, bolting down her path.

I sucked in a breath, "Oh, shit!" and craned my fist back then swung my wire in a large arc that had me soaring through the air. It whistled in my ears as the night swam across my vision. I blinked against the tears, scrunching my forehead, and focused in on Rhonda's figure.

She'd frozen, unable to wrench her gaze away from the Mutant. Oh, and she was screaming. A blood chillingly loud scream. Despite the urgency of the situation, I rolled my eyes before swooping in her direction. The ground met my feet as I swept an arm around Rhonda's waist then yanked her back up with me. Her scream was cut off with a sharp ack! as the pair of us shot back into the night sky.

"Would you please stop getting in our way?!" I snarled at her, spitting the hair from between my teeth, and trying to see through the gaps.

Rhonda turned, her mouth open with mortification. "Excu—like you were doing so much better without me!"

She was screaming, of course, as she said this. I cringed. Jesus, did this woman not realise that we had escaped the Mutant? She was struggling as well, looking over her shoulder at the mutant, which thrust even more strands into my mouth.

Growling, I swooped back down and landed with a thud! that made its way to my knees. Rhonda was out of my arms in seconds, slapping away my hands, and swung around with an impatient scowl. Hair was freezing up from the mane, swiped back from the thrashing winds, and her eyes sparked.

I rolled my eyes and straightened my back so I was standing—almost—eye to eye with her. Face scrunched tight, she opened her mouth when a dark shape plummeted for us from the corner of my eye. I scrambled forward and threw myself at Rhonda as she screamed. But as we fell, the world seemed to slow down, like time had thickened into a fog that billowed around us. There was a sharp shooting feeling in my chest, like it had formed a tube that left cold air pooling at the bottom. I felt us tipping over, the ground creeping closer to my shins, and Rhonda's fingers digging into my arms. Her hair rushed to cover my eyes as heat cackled in my ears, like the wind had lost all of its earlier chilliness.

I tilted my head back over my shoulder and watched the dark shape hurtling over us. It was quick, so I couldn't make out much, but the shadowed shape was circular, definitely large. Hot air spiralled around it, whipping harsh against my exposed skin, as the black shape twisted over us.

The breeze that followed slammed into our backs, and like time had caught up with us, the ground came up to crash into our bodies. Pain shattered, sinking deep into my stomach, and sounds returned in a rush.

Immediately, I was on my elbows, braid slung against neck, and blinking in the direction that shape had gone. My vision was spiralling, making the world spin and shake, but when my vision stilled, I found myself staring at a dented trash can. It had landed on its sides with crater–like dents puncturing its body after having crashing against a booth, and now was rolling over the grass.

Shit.

"C'mon!"

I was on my feet, yanking a blinking Rhonda by the elbow, and rushed her forward before she had even opened her mouth.

Silhouettes moved as we cluttered down that familiar Avenue again; the edges had softened with age, skirted with signposts and creaky store booths. The world rushed past in molten shadows, which sprawled out like dark, fluttering skirts, pouring over us in thick clumps. Neither of us were sure where we were going, but we were determined to find someplace safe. It felt like my throat was dissolving from the inside out; the walls were almost sticky with dryness, and smacking my lips together, I realised how thirsty I was getting.

Fuck, tonight really wasn't the night.

And then, of course, I noticed the footsteps. Loud, heavy stomps, following us. They were dense, like a pile of bricks clattering after us, followed by dry, rough pants. I felt the hair on my neck prickle, a shiver racing down my spine. I glanced over my shoulder and immediately, my eyes latched onto the Mutant.

"Can't you just stab it with your knife thing?!" Rhonda squawked, throwing a panicked look over her shoulder. She released another noise and almost tripped over a tiny stone. I quickly grabbed onto her wrist and yanked her before she could fall.

"I would," I said, feeling my throat constrict, "but its body is impenetrable—it's like fighting Luke fucking Cage!"

"Who?!"

I took a random sharp corner. Rhonda squealed and clumsily raced to correct herself, keeping up with me.

"It's skin is fucking unbreakable!" I translated for her like none of that had happened.

"Haven't you dealt with stuff like that before?!"

"Yeah, when they had eyes! This motherfucker's got no face!"

We came to a stop and I felt my heart drop.

We were back at the Wheel again; it stood over us like an imposing figure, caging us in with its shadow. The stalls that bordered the area were draped in shadows, making them look like dark moulds of jelly. These loomed over us on both sides, and I suddenly felt out in the open, like a system around me had just collapsed, leaving me shaky with panic. I could feel my pulse bouncing, beating so strongly that it was becoming hard to breathe.

We both whirled around when we heard the Mutant getting closer.

"You got a plan?" Rhonda asked, in a rushed, quiet tone, without glancing at me. Her expression had contorted with fear, breath coming out in harsh strokes that moved the bangs around her face. Her chin was so still in its place, it was like her neck had locked into place.

"Working on it," I said through my teeth then looked at my hand. I could feel some magic collecting beneath my skin, the slightest buzz of electricity. It wasn't much, but it was something. Something better than nothing, and I needed to get everyone out of this.

But still, I looked around for something that could aid me.

The Mutant burst from the shadows in a whirlwind, rounding the corner before I could find anything. It let out a ferocious growl, which hauntingly threw itself into the air. Its clawed feet slid across the ground, casting a shower of dirt into the air, before the Mutant slammed into a booth with a force that had the wooden boards jerking apart.

I felt Rhonda move beside me, a horrified gasp making her mouth drop as she watched as the Mutant picked itself up and charged in our direction.

I found myself shoving Rhonda away.

"Hey yo—"

"Get out of here!" I told her. "Hide somewhere. Just keep yourself safe, okay?"

She paused, with a funny look in her eye. It was the same look as before, an expression dourly twisted. Her bright eyes had pinned themselves to mine, but they weren't burning with anger. I wasn't sure what it was they burned with, but as the Wheel threw lines across her face, she suddenly looked like she was trapped.

"Just go, alright?"

I didn't have time for her to fight me on this. I turned away before she could say anything more. My pulse roared as the Mutant hurled in my direction, the shadows tangling around it to form into a fast–moving black knot. My heartbeat was a sharp jolt, a buzz that pushed my nerves together and felt like a chokehold. I swallowed, trying to dislodge the dread welling up inside me, and forced myself into a run.

My movements felt jangly, like someone had clumsily sewed my bones together with thread that threatened to snap with every step. The wind was a knife, rushing past my face to blow strands from my skin. But despite its iciness, my skin burned. And yet my bones were rattling, bouncing nosily against my armour.

I came to a stop, digging the sides of my heels into the ground as the Mutant snarled and swung. I ducked and swivelled around it, jabbing my foot out so my boot smacked into the back of its knee. The Mutant cried out and collapsed with surprise. I rose my fist when a sudden dizziness hit me; it had my surroundings buzzing, churning like a black river, as a pounding drilled into my skull. Heat spun across my face, although it was my wrist that was roasting. I looked to my right to see a glow spluttering from my wrist.

I gasped, my chest falling silent.

Blue light was radiating from my knuckles. Softly, not a flare like it usually was, but a glow that melted into the ground. It resembled torn fabric more than a forcefield, and instead of ballooning, it wrapped around my arm with withered claws. My chest rattled, anticipation filling the cracks, but the longer I stared, the more I noticed my vision blurring and slipping out of focus. The ground was slinking beneath my feet in a way where I couldn't tell fi it was all in my head, or if I was actually moving.

There was a pounding in my temples, but I lodged my fist into the Mutant's face. The force sent it backwards with a crack! as I bounced back on my toes. The shield wasn't as strong as before, I could feel the throbbing in my knuckles as I shook my fist. Sparks sizzled from my fingers as a hot dizziness swirled between my eyes. It was thick, moving back and forth like water, and I wanted nothing more than to lie still on the ground until everything stopped moving.

But there was still a rage that radiated in my chest. And a burning in my joints, melting away the hesitancy. I concentrated on that, trying to keep my balance. I sucked in another breath, the sides of my temples feeling like they were being kicked from the inside and pushed my weight evenly against the ground.

I tilted my chin up and glanced back to the Mutant.

The thing was gathering itself, pushing itself up from the floor, but I suddenly felt my stomach curdle. Because looking at it, as it prepared to continue fighting me, I thought of Serec. I thought about how he was always there, taunting me, and if he wasn't, then I was still never alone. I thought about how he looked at others, like they were nothing more than entertainment, and I was powerless to stop it. I thought about how observant he was; somehow, he knew exactly how to distract me. He knew the exact song to play in order to put me in a better place, to take me away from here, even though it was here that I needed to be.

He could read me like an open book. That was why I could never beat him, no matter how much I kept training, no matter how many members we added to the team. He was always one step ahead.

Rage pummelled through me, and I bolted forward. The Mutant growled and rolled out of the way, so fast that I was left stumbling. There was a whoosh from behind me and I felt my chest shudder as I slowly looked over my shoulder.

My stomach sunk as the Mutant stepped forward. Moonbeams glared from behind; the white light twisted, spraying out in a flare that carved the thickness of its limbs. I could see its rounded shoulders, the bulges in its arms that were bigger than my face, and the ripples in its legs. The muscles were massive; if this thing's skin wasn't damn near impetrative, I would think it would burst. The Mutant pushed back its shoulders, straightening its spin so it stood at full height, and I mentally cursed. Fuck, this thing was way bigger than I'd realised; even as a Guardian, I barely reached its chest.

It moved forward in a flash, swinging its fist, and yelping, I sprung backwards until my palms were pressed flat against the ground. I tilted backwards, feeling my legs rake through the air, and felt a fist graze across my waist. It was like a shudder rolling over my skin, one that made my heart fall into my mouth, and kicking out my legs, I swung backwards until I was back on my feet.

The world was spinning, in a whirl of dark glittering warm air, as the lack of energy came back like a fog. I tried raising my fists, but they suddenly felt too heavy, and all I could focus on was holding the bile back. A dark shape flew for my face and quickly, I threw myself backwards into another handspring. The mutant swiped again so I threw myself backwards, again and again and again, until the world was nothing more than a carousel.

My stomach was rolling up and down in my throat like a bar of soap when I was forced into an abrupt stop. Something cold and hard slammed against my back and my head flew up, smacking against something that let out a metallic twang! that rung in my ears.

My brows snapped together and I looked back over my shoulder, realising I'd run into a pole. Shadows heaved, curling over the sign, so I couldn't make out what the words said. I shrugged and looked back then yelped and skidded out of the way as a fist flew straight for my fist.

The fist clapped against the pole with such force that the metallic beam was ripped straight from the ground. Fat clumps of dirt went flying, exploding with pops of noises from the ground, as the pole came back down with a shudder against the ground.

I watched, unable to move, and a breeze shivered over me. Breath puffed from my lips. Sweat was beading down my collar and the walls of my throat became dry. My chest fell silent, but for once, it wasn't because I was losing hope.

No, I had a plan forming.

Crouched on my knees, I swung my fist as blue flashes sparked from knuckles. My surroundings twisted, pushing against me and almost knocking me to the ground, but the light flew. It crashed into the Mutant in an explosion that sent it spiralling. I let loose a breath, bending forward to let the relief temporarily sink into my bones, then spun and wrapped my hands around the pole. Blue light sprawled across my hands as energy coursed up my arms and rolled down my spine. Glimmering showers of blue sparks wrapped around the pole, and I began to tug,

A gut wrenching feeling lodged into my stomach. I gasped as a bolt of pain shot through me, swelling at the base of my knees. For a moment, I thought I'd been knocked over again, but realised as it ebbed away that it had been an involuntary spasm. The pain was darting in all directions as small spears of light zapped and smoked my vision. I wanted to pull away; my bones were swimming with strain, it felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

But then I heard a cracking sensation; dirt rattled across my shoes as hard soil cracked open. There was a shift, a slight movement between my hands. I pressed my weight into the ground. Squeezed my eyes shut, curled my toes, and heaved. Spasms ran down my arms as a deep ache sprawled across my muscles and heat bathed my face.

But then there was a final rifting sensation, a crack in the ground that made everything shatter away and the weight restraining my arms dissipated. And when I spun around, I had the pole clutched between my glowing hands.

There was an unexpected trivialness to it; the metal was well past my height, and the triangular sign attached at the top was large. Had I been Helga, or not using my powers, I knew the weight would be impossible to burden. But the brightness of my barriers around my hands twinkled, they burned against the dark, and sent fine sparks that cut through the air.

There was an ache that soaked my muscles, but it was bearable. I turned back around to the Mutant, shaking its head, touching its temples as it recollected itself. Light dappled, moulding against its body like a cloak, and its shadow fell across the ground.

But looking at it, all I could see was Serec—the pain, the amusement, my freedom being snatched away.

And the lies.

"Who is Serec?"

"I—I'm afraid I do not know that either."

I was running.

Suddenly, all I could see was that Mutant. Everything else was swept up, billowed out of my notice. Inky darkness surrounded me, blocking out the light and sounds and coursing through my hair. Tension had seized my lungs, venom raced through my mind. I couldn't feel anything, not the strain in my muscles, not the pole carrying my arms down, not even the dizziness that made my vision tumble. I could only hear a heartbeat—my heartbeat. Flowing, intricately formed, and leaving welts across my mind. Her words became hot, overlapped by a thumping that shattered in my bones.

The Mutant then looked up, its face turning in my direction, and clacking my teeth together, I swung.

I felt my knees buckling, my weight dangerously tipping to the left as a strain ran down my stomach and burst at my feet. The numbness was ebbing away as a throbbing took over, a burning ache that buried itself into my bones. I forced my eyes open, wanting to at least see the pole connect with the Mutant's head, but at the last minute, the creature suddenly leapt into the air.

I gasped, a weight falling into my stomach, when the Mutant landed on the higher end of the pole. All I could do was gape, feeling my heart pump against my chest. The Mutant then crouched and kicked off again, and the weight sent me tumbling. My stomach raced, catching itself between my teeth as I toppled, and the right end of the pole smacked into the ground.

I huffed, feeling the breath burn and muffle my lungs, and my hair scuffle against my face. Air collected at the base of my throat, and I realised how hot and sweaty my skin had become.

A thump! shuddered the ground from behind me.

Gritting my teeth, I dug my heel into the ground and swung, heaving the pole around. The weight crushed my bones, I could feel it almost cracking in my right shoulder. The light around my wrists buzzed, sparking like ragged nails and almost blinding me. I blinked, willing back the spots from my vision, and when I came to, the Mutant had dodged to the side. I tried following, swinging again, but it ducked. And swinging another time, the Mutant simply flipped over it.

Black battered my vision, and I wavered. Sweat was bunching in my creases. There was a swelling in my joints and my palms burned from holding so tight onto the pole. I looked at my hands, collected in burning blue globes, then at the ground. A shiver rushed over me, and I tightened my grip around the pole. I bared my teeth and swung, this time hitting my mark, and felt the pole sweep the Mutant from its feet.

It crashed to the ground and I charged forward, swinging down. But the Mutant wrapped its hand around the pole before I could make the hit. I gasped, staggering, and felt my heart pump dryly in my throat. The Mutant tightened its grip around the pole, then slung me, sending me flying.

The wind scalded my face as the world panted. It screamed, swimming thick around me, as the shapes softened then dripped like oil. I wanted to scream, but my stomach had filled my mouth as I spun and spun. Fire burned my skin, it pounded into my brain as nausea pummelled through me.

And then it was over, and the ground had knocked against me. The air hurled down my throat, stinging like needles, and I found myself rolling then landing on my knees. My palms slammed against the dirt, trying to steady my balance, but everything was spinning.

I couldn't hear, I realised, nothing but a ringing noise. It drilled into my skull, overriding my senses with such a force, I almost collapsed. The air swelled, pumping warm across my skin, soft like flower petals but sloppy enough to make me sick. I placed a hand to my throat, as if to hold back the bile that threatened to rise, and forced myself to gulp.

Shit, I thought, raising my eyes, I needed to—

The Mutant was in front of me in a flash. I ducked to the side, feeling its fist glanc my cheek. Everything was still spinning, I couldn't make out much but a dark figure, but I stretched out my palm and called for my weapon.

The air buzzed and shivers ran down my spine. It felt like my skeleton was vibrating, trembling against my insides, as a warmth shot up my arm. It tingled, almost bubbling beneath my skin as my vision spun. Trees swirled and twisted, forming a black and green knot, as nausea tied into a tight cord in my stomach. The warmth of it loosened my throat.

Sounds pulsated, they wavered and blurred, slowly fluxing back but still muffled. Then suddenly, something whacked into my hand. My heart skipped a beat, and I swung back around on my knees and swung. But the Mutant swerved before my knife could even scrape it.

The edges of my vision dimmed, hedged in with smoke. My heartbeat rattled. A hiss worked its way up my throat and I lurched forward. The Mutant dodged, then slammed its foot to my side. A searing pain crushed my bones as I slammed hard against the ground and my knife clattered from my fingers. Fire spread through my torso, exploding in my ribs as my body seized. I rolled onto my side, dirt sticking to my wet skin, and tried sucking in air that I knew wouldn't make it.

But then I heard thumps. They echoed loudly against my ear, punching through, and when I glanced up, the Mutant was rushing for me. The pain burned, but I threw up my fist and shot out a wire. It whizzed, disappearing into the night sky as the Mutant's fist flew towards me. I tensed, expecting for the impact, when I was swept up from the ground and into the air.

It rushed over me, burning my face and slamming into my chest. An ache swelled in my ribs as a set of probes shot up my side and blood surged up my throat. I almost let go, wanting to recoil and curl into a ball. I instead sucked in a breath and looked up ahead. I couldn't see much, everything was a dark blur and my hair clawed across my eyes, and I used that to steel my nerves.

I wasn't done yet. I had to keep going.

I struck out my hand and called for my knife. The breeze was coming down in swoops, blasting in my ears, but I still felt the tingles racing up and down my face. It gathered at the back of my neck and hurled down my collar, like several spiders were nestling in my spine. My head spun as a buzzing stirred between my eyes, seething like a smoky whirlpool.

A shape moved in the corner of my eye. My head followed. White spots dazzled in my vision. I blinked rapidly, shook them from my mind, and glanced back down.

The knife, it was already in my hand. My fingers had even closed around it, out of reflex.

I frowned, choosing not to linger on that, and swooped. My hair sprawled against my head, the strands darting in all directions. I flung out both my feet, everything rushed, until they slammed into the Mutant's head. The painful impact jolted through me, seizing my body and buckling in my knees, but the force knocked it to the ground.

I wrapped one arm around my side, hoping the weight could numb the pain, and with the last of my energy, I spun through the air until I was back on the ground. But my insides heaved so violently I fell to one knee, the hand holding my knife pressed against the ground and steadying my weight. The pain was shattering, it ached, and I strained to compensate the world that ducked and weaved around me. I clenched my teeth, trying to hold back the screams, and ducked my chin.

The wind broiled, pushing up against my neck as strands of hair glanced my jaw. I sucked in shreds of air, clamping my hand into the dirt, and turned my face up. Hair danced across my face, spluttering in waves of champagne, and through the gaps, I spotted the Mutant. It was already collecting itself, springing to its feet, and as it did, its shadows sprawled across the grass. I crunched my fingers around my knife, feeling the air around me growing still, and launched back onto my feet.

I ran and pain spindled up in my spine and scattered down my arms and legs. The earth slapped against the soles of my feet and the wind knocked flat against me. Light was thrown from my blade, recoiling from the metal and splattering across the floor. A snarl worked its way up my throat. I saw the Mutant's face turn up right as I swung. I squeezed my eyes shut, expecting to feel a wall of flesh rupturing beneath my knife.

Wait—

But instead, my pulse jerked to a stop.

I opened my eyes.

Settled on the Mutant. It was still on the ground, crouched on the balls of its feet, but it was stretched out. Shadows swirled, draping over its long arm, which—my eyes traced upwards—had reached up to wrap its hand around my wrist.

I froze.

The fingers around me tightened and with a gasp, the knife fell from my hand. I watched the dark shape clutter to my feet and made to grab for it when I was jerked forward. Something smashed into my jaw, reeling me backwards, until the ground rushed up to slam against my back. Sounds crackled in my ears. The world spun in loops, sweeping over me, and pushed through my body. Ringing drilled into my skull. The breath in my chest sharpened, settling like a weight. Saltiness oozed across my tongue; sloshing between my teeth and hurling down my throat until I was choking. The ache of it burned. Everything was spinning. Holes returned, burning my vision. Nausea rippled in my stomach, moving upwards; it climbed up my throat like acid, and I blinked against the pooling shadows.

The air wobbled, sinking with a newfound weight that settled into my pores like sand. It swam in dark colours and beat against my veins. It filled my lungs, tasting so cold it seemed wet, I could feel my chest getting heavy. My jaw turned unbearably hot, but my bones were heavy, and I began to feel like I was drowning.

And then my ears detected sounds—whistling. The back of my neck prickled, and the air in my chest sharpened. I rolled away in an instant, my surroundings rustling as I blinked to adjust my sight, when a sharp stinging burned my arm. It made me stumble, loosing balance. Awkwardly, I crumbled onto one knee.

Clenching my teeth together to hold back the screams, I glanced down. It was hard to see at first, my eyes still hadn't completely adjusted. Shadowy splinters crept over my skin, but when a brush of air flowed over me, another stinging sensation chilled me to the bone.

I blinked again and felt my thoughts go up in flames. There was a tear down my sleeve and as the edges peeled back, blood pushed down the jagged cut. It rippled in pools across my skin and hot sticky blood painted the grass crimson. The air became hot. I glanced up and my eyes snapped to the knife a few feet from me. My vision blurred, throat tightening as I struggled to keep my composure.

My armour was rattling. I clamped a hand around my arm, wanting it to stop. A hot ache swelled beneath my hand and laced across my skin. Breath heaved from my lips. Nails sunk into my flesh, but I chose not to feel it.

I rose my chin, looking at the Mutant. It wasn't injured, it wasn't even bothered. Hair scraped across my vision. I wracked my brain for a solution, possibly a detail I may have glossed over. But it was inevitable; I didn't have an answer. I didn't know how to defeat this one. It was too powerful and I—

No.

No, no, there was a way—there was always a way.

I just needed to figure it out.

I punched the air, gritting my teeth at the bolts of pain that simmered down my arm. The wire spiralled, shooting up into the sky and then snapping straight when it hooked onto something. It then retraced, pulling me along. The air wailed, taking swipes at my arm, and I felt my muscles clamp. It felt like tiny pieces of glass had buried into my skin, nestling beneath the layers, and now someone was kicking at them. My hair had slicked back, a golden haze twisting and snapping over my shoulders. I blinked, feeling my eyes water, when I noticed a dark shape moving—fast.

I shook my head, glancing down, and felt my blood turn to ice. The Mutant had moved, reaching up and wrapping its fingers around the wire.

My heart stopped.

It then yanked, hard, and sent me plummeting. The wind sharpened, tearing across my face like knives, and my stomach shot up into my heart. The Mutant yanked again, I yelped. A dark flash rose from the bottom of my vision, cranking upwards. And then I felt my upper body cave in as the shadowed cap of the Mutant's knee rammed into my gut.

There was a crunching sound.

The noise crawled in my ears and travelled to the nape of my neck. The air was crushed from my lungs. Salvia surged up my throat and spurted out of my lips. A searing pain exploded—white hot—and my mind became filled with it. Joints of fire, like sharp bullets, billowed up to blister in my chest.

And then, there was another fierce tug, and I found myself spinning.

The world swam black, spit bubbling from my lips. The ground slammed into my body, like a jolt of electricity, and I felt myself bounce before coming back down again. Agony came from all directions; I could feel my insides squishing against the grass. And then, my spine smacked hard against something and a ringing echoed. A pounding rushed in my ears. It punched back and forth in my chest, bashing against the wooden board I'd hit. My ribs wreathed. The air swam, sticky and thick, and for a moment, all I could hear was my own laboured breaths.

And then I heard the boards buckling and snapping. Noise swam, punching through, and I felt myself sink. Tiny splinters, no thicker then strands of hair, glanced me like glass shards. My head then knocked against the ground, as the sound continued to thunder like a pulse in my temples. Spit bubbled down my left cheek. Agony wracked through me and sharp jagged edges pushed through my torso. Every breath I took, it felt like I was being stabbed, over and over and over again,

Tears burned my eyes. I tried moving but my bones had rusted. They were too heavy. I couldn't breathe, I realised, it was too painful.

I opened my eyes—only now realising they'd shut—and rolled my chin against the ground. The grass was cold against my face and a pounding clamped hard in my throat. Everything was still spinning but—the stall. I could see, it had collapsed. The wooden boards were laid out around me, like jagged blankets, splintering across the floor.

The floor was buzzing, I realised. It was—the sound of hooves or something. Thick, like pulses. Wind swarmed, cold against the side of my face, as the grass trembled.

I needed to get up.

I slid my palms out, dirt rolling under my nails, and pushed down. White hot pain flashed from every corner of my body. My muscles clamped down, hard. I couldn't—I couldn't move. It hurt, way too much. The burning that consumed me made the air in my lungs thicken, heating up rapidly, so it felt like I was full to the brim with smoke.

I looked to the Mutant, charging for me.

My vision blurred.

"Blue Jay!"

I glanced up and felt my chest sink when my eyes hooked onto her face.

Rhonda.

No.

My heart dropped, all thoughts coming to a stop. The Mutant let out a growl, twisting its feet into the dirt before shooting off. Rhonda froze, her stance stiffening as she realised what was happening, and then she screamed. She turned and scrambled to put distance between them, but the Mutant was fast. She hadn't even taken her second step when it swung, striking her in the back of the head. The force slammed her forward onto the dirt and on her stomach, ponytail swinging over her shoulder. She scrambled, desperately trying to escape, when the Mutant swiped again, this time wrapping its large hands around her torso and hoisting her in the air.

A shiver dragged down my spine.

Darkness was pressing in from the corner of my eyes, but I blinked, struggling to keep my focus sharp. This thing was so tall, monstrously tall. Rhonda thrashed and kicked out her legs, trying to jerk her fists free from the grip around her waist. But they were pinned to her sides, unable to budge. The Mutant growled. Air hissed and burned my face, almost pushing me under so I would be back against the ground. I blinked, focusing on the fingers that dug craters into Rhonda's skin, then threw out my wrist.

Pain flashed, sizzling me in half, and my head knocked back to the ground. The air sweltered, making my skin prickle and my head spin, and I curled on my side. A hot ache swelled, spasming up my spine and bursting in my chest. My heart pounded, fracturing my lungs, making it hard for air to get back into my chest. I whimpered, wet face pressed to the dirt, and curled my fists tight to my chest. Trying to nurse the pain away. Pieces of dirt stuck to my damp, hot arm. Trying to distract myself.

I heard another scream. I looked up and all I could see were Rhonda's feet dangling above the ground. Sweat beaded my forehead. Grass rippled, as if waving for help or trying to reach for her. My ribs felt chapped, grating together like the edges of two chipped plates, and a balloon of nausea pushed up into my throat. But a weight settled into my chest. Cold air sank over my ears. I sucked in a large breath, curled my lips shut. Then, holding the breath in my stomach, forced myself onto my knees. Another spasm. It crackled; the swelling rush blinded me with tears. I blinked them back and threw my hands out. Another ache swelled, a scream escaped, but the knife was back in my hands.

My head still spun, I could feel the air pressing against my face and distorting my balance. I clenched my teeth, "Let her go, asshole!"

I swung back and threw the knife. Another set of probes hit me, prickling down my skin, and turned the blood in my veins into fire. My heart seized in my chest. I felt myself falling and slammed a hand onto the ground. Cranked my chin upwards. Holes burned my vision, but I found the Mutant.

Light bent around it, turning it and Rhonda into shadowed figures, melded into black shapes. My knife soared like it was being pulled by an invisible string, but the Mutant swung around with a fierce cry. It lifted one hand, while keeping the other wrapped around Rhonda. Spreading out its fingers, it caught the knife.

I gasped.

It was with a thwack! that I could hear from even over here. The weapon slammed into the Mutant's palm with such a force that it sent a cascade of air rippling. Rhonda had paused in her struggle and scrunched her eyes shut as the breeze scattered over her. It swept back her hair, the ponytail swirling and her bangs trembling, as the grass swam.

Fingers crunched around the knife. I felt my pulse rush in my ears. The Mutant swung its hand, and my heart jammed into my throat as the blade was sent back my way. I scrambled, diving out of the way before I could get hit. The sudden jerk had me gasping, agony wracking through me. I was aware that I was falling, but didn't feel it, not until I hit the ground.

The ground shuddered. The knife soared over me, in a quick flash. But all I knew was pain. Burning, blinding and white. It rocked up around my arms. Clawed up my torso. Crushed my stomach, lodged into my throat until all that came out was a cracked, bubbling scream.

"Fuck—shit!"

It boomed like thunder, drowning out everything around me. The bolt that shot through me, it was like fire. Every part of me had seized. My throat tightened so hard I could barely breathe as my torso screamed in anguish. I clamped my hands down around my wrist as I felt the boils roil and clack, and felt my head begin to swell.

I lowered my jaw, inhaling and exhaling, trying to get as much air as I could into my body. It felt frosty, crisp and sharp, like shards of glass, which had the pain rushing back in. I slammed my hands into the ground and white hot threads flared down my torso. I screwed my mouth shut, vision wet, and tried finding something to distract myself.

The breeze pushed, twirling and falling, and though I recognised that it was cold, I didn't feel it. My skin burned hot, blood hot. In my throat, on my face, on my hands. Blood pumped strong and thick in me, I felt overheated. Sweat trickled down between my shoulder blades; I felt my hair following the line of my spine.

Something was prickling in my palms. I glanced at the grass. The patch beneath my hand, coated in shadows. Hidden in a smoked–out attire. I studied the patterns, those shadowed blades rising up to spike me. Tried focusing on those smaller sensations, the bristling that tickled my hands, my wrists, wherever my skin made contact with the ground. Imagined it was barbed wire that I was pressed against, and that those sensations were getting stronger.

But at some point, the smoke had gone up in my brain. Everything smoothed around the edges. Fog gathered at the front of my head, drowning me in shadows, and I felt my forehead tapping against the grass.

The air stilled. Mind blank, I inhaled. I couldn't move. It was like my bones had formed into weights. Or a weighted blanket had fallen on top of me. I couldn't move, even if I wanted to.

I was just so tired.

I shut my eyes, sucked in another breath. Frostiness entered my lungs, it felt like knives gliding beneath my skin. Tears rolled down my skin and froze over like winter puddles. Dirt was sticking to my face. I imagined myself sinking into the muscles of the ground, and wondered if I did that, would anyone ever find me?

"Blue Jay!"

The breeze was cool, the night falling silent. It smelled of rain. I opened my eyes, found myself staring at Rhonda.

Her bright eyes pinned to me, tight.

The Wheel behind her was still illuminated, sheltering her in artificial light, and she had completely stopped her struggling. Her feet were still, arms pinned to her side. But her shoulders had become rigid and several emotions cartwheeled across her face as she looked at me.

Her normally cruel gaze was desperate, clinging onto mine like a child's. Her gaze darted over me with a sense of urgency, as if she was searching, hunting, for an answer. Like I might have a key stashed away in my pocket that could get us out of here.

But when I didn't move, she froze. The puzzle pieces clicked into place. Her shoulders sagged, eyes now wide with a dawning realisation. I saw the muscles in her throat move, like she was taking a large gulp before she lowered her chin. Her bangs rippled over her face, like a dark, silky curtain, and I felt my insides sour. Rhonda was the last person I expected to see like this, and somehow, that made it hurt more.

The silence pressed in, like the park was holding its breath, and I tried to swallow. Maybe if we were lucky, Lark would get here. She was always so good with her timing, maybe she could—

And then, Rhonda's face snapped back up.

Her eyes turned hot.

And her teeth came together, forming a straight white line. Cool light spilled around her, gliding along her face. Something hot and wild sparked in her gaze. Her eyes slid back to the Mutant. Her jaw clenched, nose wrinkling, and a deep growl emitted from her throat.

The air in my chest still, I found myself holding my breath. Her eyes never left the Mutant as she lurched forward. Her arm snapped forward and her knuckles lodged straight into the Mutant's face.

I gasped.

The Mutant swung back, the recoil knocking it backwards, and Rhonda fell to the ground. I blinked and blinked and kept blinking until my brain connected the pieces together. She was gathering herself. Shadows rolled, light shuffling as she dug her fingernails into the dirt. Her shoulders were moving up and down, she was sucking in several deep breaths, and then she glanced up.

Her mouth parted. She blinked. Looked at her hands.

"Did I just . . ."

"You phased through," I felt myself saying. I was disconnected, the pain had faded to a low background hum. She looked at me, eyes wide, like she had forgotten I was there. I could tell from her expression, shifting every millisecond, that her thoughts were like cannonballs. I swallowed. "T–That's your power—intangibility!"

Strands swept across her face. Silence hung as her mouth parted, her head becoming still. A pool of wrinkles formed between her brows and then her eyes darted back to the Mutant. It was pushing itself back onto its feet, hands stamped into the grass, which swam in black shades. One hand pressed against its temple, I could imagine it blearily blinking its eyes as the world spun.

But then, its attention hooked onto her.

Light coiled, majestic ash–coloured clouds twisting to fall and shatter over her. The breeze was hot and peppery, sneaking beneath her jaw, and swept up her hair. The strands swirled, curling over her face, and rolled over her eyes. The night flowed behind, freckled with glittering stars—Rhonda became a shadow.

Darkness was rippling beneath her feet. Blades of grass weaved over her fingers, like chains. Her palms slowly slid, dirt collecting beneath them, before she curled them into fists. The line of her shoulders stiffened as her spine straightened, and she rolled herself onto her knees.

Shadows moved over her until she rose her chin. The moon burned on her copper skin, and her hair parted.

I gasped. Everything about her had sharpened. It was like witnessing the curtains separate before the beginning of a play, or an actor shifting into character. Before this, emotions had cartwheeled across her face, each one lasting for a few seconds then morphing into something else. But this—whatever it was—it stayed.

The line between her brows was deep, it made the centre of her mask pucker. Her nose wrinkled and her nostrils flared. The corners of her mouth had slid down. Her eyes had always burned hot, they reminded me of candlelight. But that light was soft, this seemed different. Light was still there, but it seemed harsher, like it had narrowed into glint–like daggers.

Breath curled from her lips. Her glare had latched onto the Mutant's. It made me shudder then glance back to the monster. Light shuffled; I spotted the muscles along its back tensing. It pressed its feet into the ground, and I sunk my nails into the dirt, knowing what was about to happen. The Mutant released a roar, one that made thunder pound in my chest, before sprinting for Rhonda.

Strain burned in my throat and I glanced back at Rhonda. But instead of seeing panic, or even surprise, I saw nothing. Nothing I could recognise, anyway. Her eyes narrowed before she pushed herself up and back onto her feet. Chunks of dirt sprinkled from her palms, but she didn't wipe her hands. She kept them to her side, her shoulders even more tense. She didn't move, she didn't run or even walk, instead she waited. She rose her chin, pushing back to her shoulders, and tossed her hair. Now that her face was clear, her gaze cut through the wind to hook onto the Mutant's. And looking at her, I realised that the face she had now, she was a grown woman with hard and sharp features.

The Mutant was running on its hands and feet. Its spine curved, limbs swinging about as its long nails left slashes across the dirt. The pounding in my chest was so intense, it made nausea curl in my chest. I wanted to go, to follow my instincts which burned like acid, but the pain had me bolted down. Everything was moving in waves. Even if I could get up, I wouldn't be able to make it in time.

The Mutant snarled, then swung its fist. Her hair fanned out like a cape, and just like before, Rhonda shifted through it.

I blinked.

It was like she had become smoke. Her form softened, swaying with the wind. Her edges billowed out, draping in pastel that bled into the night. The fist slipped through her and like a whir of air, her form swam through it.

The Mutant floundered, having pushed most of its weight into that punch, and as it fell, Rhonda stumbled forward. Her edges scuffled, becoming crisp, and her figure sharpened. Light bent around her now, rather than moving through her, and she touched her forehead. Her fingers pressed against her skin, and I knew she was no longer using her powers.

She looked around, like she was lost. She then swung around, glancing back at the Mutant, and clasped her throat. Her eyes widened, like she couldn't believe that it had happened, and drew in a sharp gasp.

"Shoot your wires!" I shouted, feeling pain seize my ribs.

She glanced back. "How?!"

"Squeeze your fists!"

She frowned, looking to her wrist. Her eyes ran over the devices like she had just noticed that they were there, but she jumped when a noise came from behind her. The Mutant was getting back to its feet. She lifted her wrist, copying my instructions, and shrieked when a wire shot from the device. It shot into the air, hooking onto something I couldn't see, and yanked her from the ground.

She moved fast, I struggled trying to keep up with her. But she was screaming so at least I knew where she was. She was a clumsy dark shape, whizzing in jagged circles, and I spotted her trying to shoot out her other wire.

Rolling my eyes, I opened my mouth to shout at her when another wave of nausea hit me. I felt my insides soften, bubbling over with bile, then the ground slamming into my temple. Everything swam around me, pushing into me like a hot cloth, and I let out a breath. The grass was cold against my skin, I let that ground me. Everything felt like it was rocking back and forth, but the grass at least was still.

I shut my eyes. The air in my chest had lost its sharpness, it softened until I felt it ooze. It seeped, burning until it hissed, and made my skin prickle with sweat. Everything wobbled and spun, I wanted to stay here. But then I heard something pound against the ground, beating against my veins, and my eyes snapped open.

I took a moment to fill my lungs with air, then lifted my face from the ground. Rhonda had landed on the ground, pivoting on the balls of her feet to face the Mutant. The Mutant turned, letting out another snarl, when Rhonda threw her fists to the side, the muscles in her arms bulging, and let out a loud cry.

I blinked and pushed myself up. There was a pounding in my throat, it wailed in my ears, but all I could focus on was Rhonda. Her knees bent before she bolted forward, her movements sharp yet powerful. There was no hesitation. She swung her fist, heaving it over her shoulder, and as she launched it forward, something whooshed from her wrist.

It reflected a blinding flare of light, which slashed across my vision. I had to cover my face, turning away. Leftover shards of light prickled and spread over my eyelids. The beating in my throat thickened, I struggled to swallow. There was a short, pounding silence, and then the air sharpened. There was a hiss! followed by a wet, cracking noise. The hairs on my neck spiked. Something crackled in the air, it made my knees buckle, and before I could stop myself, my eyes opened.

The flash had gone, my eyes no longer burdened. Everything was back to normal, wrapped up in shadows, which made it hard to distinguish shapes from one another. I blinked, feeling my heart in my throat, and turned back to Rhonda.

The moon gleamed, oozing white, watery light which spilled and wrapped around them. Their figures were dark, but they were encased with starlight. Rhonda had frozen; her knees were bent, one foot slid back so she could thrust herself forward. She had one hand curled against her torso and the other stretched out, towards the Mutant.

I blinked, trying to decipher the shape on her wrist. It was long, sharp and straight—like a knife. I ran my eyes along her arm, realising that the end of the knife—or whatever it was—had pierced straight through the Mutant's neck.

I froze, noticing the dark smears sliding down the Mutant's throat and the one across Rhonda's face.

Her eyes had frozen wide.

And suddenly, I was on my feet—running. Hot pain cracked down my ribs, contracting all of my insides into little knots, and I could feel myself choking. But I didn't allow myself to stop. I filled my vision with Rhonda, allowing everything else to fade to black, but noticed everything starting to prickle. I shook my head, ignoring the wobbling, and pushed myself harder.

Rhonda's chest was shuddering. Her mouth dropped as she panted, then shakily pulled her weapon—her knife—from the Mutant's body. She winced at the wet sound it produced and covered her mouth with her hand, watching as the Mutant fell to the ground. Another breeze rustled her hair, pushing her strands onto her face, but she didn't brush them away. She kept staring at the monster at her feet, looking like she wanted to vomit.

Something snapped beneath my feet.

She jumped, eyes darting then latching onto mine. It was a punch to the gut, everything she felt was burning hot. I felt my knees creak as I came to a stop, angling my body away from Rhonda's.

Hot energy tunnelled my vision and flared from my hands. The air around us froze and I frowned, pushing all of that energy into the barrier. It circled us, encasing us in a shimmering dome. It buzzed, drumming like a second heartbeat, and surged against my skin in rippling waves. I could hear Rhonda gasp and take a step backwards, but paid it no mind, focusing everything I had into that barrier.

The explosion clapped down onto the barrier. The sound crackled, a high pitched, rhythmic wail that muffled my skin. It made my head spin. Rhonda yelped. Her silhouette moved across the ground. I clacked my teeth together, pressing my feet down, and willed the forcefield back up.

The explosion had pressed against it, like flames to a window. Heat drippled, I could feel dew running down my temples. The air became unbearably thick, I could feel it sag in my lungs and sour my stomach. The heartbeat in my wrists had my fingers trembling and there was a dull ache in my joints. Shades of red, orange and yellow rowed after one another, sweeping across the barrier. I could feel my vision softening as trails of smoke ran like thread, chasing those flames away.

I began feeling detached; I couldn't feel the floor anymore. Heat sunk into my muscles. The air became sour. Sweat crawled and made my skin prickle. My knees buckled. I tried keeping my head high, but the air had become so rich, too sultry.

The explosion wreathed, showers of sparks and clouds of ash billowing up. The bands around my wrists tingled, my arms were shaking. The strain painted a dryness over my tongue. The glow around us became hazy, a series of molten beams, but the minute I saw it sweeping over, I let go.

My bones creaked as my knees sank, hitting the grass. The sky was panting, screaming at me. I pressed a hand to the ground, gripping the grass. As if that would pull me back down. I could feel beads sliding down my face, roasted air clinging to them, and hair scattered down my shoulders. There was a shakiness in my elbows, I pushed harder against the ground, willing myself to stay upright.

"Wha—"

I shut my eyes. Her voice twisted, radiating between my eyes like a sharpshooting headache. I wanted nothing more than to go home, or to sleep. I was too tired for the rest of this. The air was beating, swarming over me, hot like oil.

Slowly, I rose my chin.

Rhonda had fallen to the ground, a few feet away from me, and her hands covered her knees. The wind made her ponytail dance, but her gaze was far from here. "What the hell was that?"

I paused, trying to understand what had happened. But everything felt like a blur; it felt like hours had passed, yet also like it had all been mere seconds. Everything was a rush, one that swirled and twisted until everything felt like it had formed into a little knot.

Silence pressed in.

My fingers clung to the short blades of grass. There was a pounding in my chest. I could feel Rhonda slowly turning; she paused when she saw me. Her eyebrows raised as she raked her gaze up and down my face, and then to the ends of my hair. I didn't know what it was that she saw, but I knew that it wasn't pretty.

I opened my mouth to answer when another voice rung out.

"Blue Jay!"

We whirled around, finding Lark and Nel racing for us. There was a moment where I saw their gazes darting as they took in the scene, widening when they saw the ruptured craters dirt from the explosion.

I looked over Lark, noting how she ran. It wasn't as fast as usual—she wasn't even using her super speed—and there was a slight jangle to her movements. Her hair was matted, it was mostly slicked back from the wind, but I could see the dirt covering the normally red strands. The blood had completely dried, it had was like old paint, already turning dark and blotting around her jaw. Dirt fell around her, drizzling from her movements, and settled back into the ground like snow.

Her face lit with alert when she turned back to us, and in an instant, she was by my side. There were dark bruises along her face and neck, but the mask covered some of them. She hooked her hands under my armpits as she hurriedly looked me over.

"Are you okay—"

"Ow!" I winced and tried shoving her away. "I'm fine!"

"No, you're not—here, lean on me!"

"Would you stop touching me? It hurts more goddamnit!"

"Perhaps you should listen to her then."

"Knock it off, Nel!"

"That was . . ."

We all stopped, turning back to Rhonda.

The look on her face was foreign; she looked so lost. I frowned. She was always so sure of herself, there was always a fire in her eyes. But now her expression was wiped clean, she looked so hazy. Nel softly approached her, ears softly folding down, but Rhonda didn't react.

Lark beamed. She planted her right hand on her hips while she had her other wrapped around my waist, supporting the majority of my weight.

"It was pretty awesome, wasn't it?" she said to Rhonda.

Surprised, Rhonda looked up.

I rolled my eyes. "Speak for yourself."

"Thought you said you were fine," Lark teased, turning back with a grin.

I went to respond when I felt the hairs on my neck standing up. The expression dropped as my heart sank low and I saw Lark's eyes dimming with realisation. Wordlessly, I turned to look over my shoulder to the top of the Wonder Wheel and felt that hollowness beat a hole in my chest. Everything felt disconnected, I barely could feel anything as I stared. I felt everyone turn to follow my gaze and the air spike as silence settled over us.

It was Serec.

He sat at the top, on the tallest column with one foot dangling in the air. The stars were burning bright from behind, pushing shards of light over him. The wind was swirling, it twisted through his hair which moved like silken fire. His beauty hit me in the throat, sharp and cold. His eyes were on us, his attention pressing in. A part of me wondered if he had even moved to begin with, or if he had been sitting there the whole time, watching us.

He blinked as we slowly turned in his direction. There was a racing in my chest as I noticed his shoulders hike up for a second, and a part of me worried he was readying himself to continue fighting. But then he smiled—sharp and predatory—and waved. And for some reason, that made all the pieces click together. He'd been observing us. He hadn't been throwing all of these Mutants at us for entertainment, or even to kill us, he was doing it to watch us. To learn our ins and out's, how we worked as a team. He wanted to see our weaknesses.

A lump rose in my throat. His movements were slow, unbothered, like he didn't feel an ounce of fear. I suddenly felt whispering in my ears, burning and hissing as I lowered my chin. We'd—I—given it our all and still, we weren't enough. We had a third member, something that I thought could help us, but still, he didn't see us as equals.

He then made a movement and I glanced back up in time to see him snapping his fingers. The breeze shook, shifting then thickening. It pushed and poured over us and everyone around me shifted. Rhonda was back on her feet, holding a hand to her face, and Nel was moving towards us, eyes squeezed shut. The air burned, slicing over me so sharply it made my skin bristle. Lark tightened her hold on me and looped an arm around Rhonda, tugging her so she was protected with us. There was a strangled, "Meow! as Rhonda bent down to lift Nel up, cradling her so the cat was between Rhonda and Lark. The last I saw was Serec's sharp smirk, his eyes wide and glued onto mine, before Lark swept me away.

I don't know how long we stayed like this, waiting for the wind to pass. But my knees creaked, I could feel my fingers twitching, burning with the urge to throw up a forcefield. But the way my head was spinning, I knew it would be easier to wait it out.

I could feel the trees quivering, the blades of grass slapping against one another. Dirt picked up, swooping and swirling in the breeze, and I scrunched my nose when I felt them smack against my arms.

But I didn't open my eyes until I felt the wind come to a stop. The air thinned, small trails rushing over us like string. My hair dropped, slapping against the back of my neck, and my ears burned from the silence. Blood rushed beneath my skin. I opened my eyes, immediately snapping my attention to the top of the Wheel, but as expected, Serec was gone.

I moved, stepping out of Lark's hold, and hobbled a few steps closer. As if Serec would pop out from nowhere, trying to catch me off guard. But he didn't. It remained empty and the silence began to ring.

"Well," Lark eventually said when I turned back around, she was released her hold of Rhonda. She looked between us, the blood beneath her nose cracking as she nervously grinned. "I think we can all agree that that—" she pointed to the top of the wheel. "—was most definitely a thing."

---

Until today, I had never seen Rhonda so quiet.

Don't get me wrong, I'd seen moments where she wasn't talking. They were small, but they were there. It normally happened when the words would freeze up in her throat but she'd cover it by checking over her phone, distracting herself with meaningless debates on twitter or Instagram. There were also moments when I caught her alone, listening to books on her phone; books that were labelled Bad Feminist, All the Rage, or Testosterone Rex, or something of that nature. She always listened to books like that during study periods instead of completing her homework. She occupied the spot against the wall at one of the longer tables in the library where she could lean against the cool bricks. It was against the window, so as she listened, she would cast her gaze over the fields as she contemplated what she learnt. There was always this look in her eye; a furrow between her brows she chewed on the tip of her thumb. She would mutter the last few sentences as she did so, as if trying to stick them to memory.

That was the closest I'd seen Rhonda in the state that she was now—contemplative. Her eyes were looking one way, but her mind was in a completely different direction.

But this, obviously, was different than that.

She didn't look up, not once. Not as Lila helped me into the car. Not when my shirt was lifted and my wounds applied to. Didn't even twitch as I yelped or jumped from the sudden flash of pain.

She didn't do anything.

Hell, no one spoke. Save for Lila, who occasionally warned me when it would hurt, and hissed and apologised whenever I squirmed. But it was Rhonda who, somehow, despite not saying anything, commanded the most attention.

She sat in the driver's seat, hands folded over the wheel. Her chin was rested on top of her knuckles and wisps of her hair grazed down her neck. She had transformed back into her teenage self, long before I'd even entered the car.

The stereo was on but the volume was turned down so it came out as a gentle thrum with an occasional beat.

I glanced at the glowing screen.

Seratone's Fear

I quirked an eyebrow at the ironic name.

Maybe I'm selfish if I never come home

Rhonda's face was no longer bruised, but her shoulders were hunched. She looked like how she had before, when I'd first gotten into the car this morning, which felt like it had been centuries ago. But there was more weight to her now, like she carried the world on her shoulders.

I made a face, knowing how she was feeling.

Maybe I'm reckless, got one foot out the door

Rhonda had her back to us, face turned to the window and gaze locked up ahead. But the glass betrayed the haze in her eyes; they no longer lit up like they used to, they now looked . . . jaded.

Longing for what I never had

I stepped in the water and the water was cold

I didn't blame her. I was still shocked with everything and I was sure that when I woke up tomorrow, fully rested and in less pain, I would be even more shocked. Because when I'd pictured our next teammate, I'd been expecting someone on a sports team, or even a part of one of those volunteer committees. It might've sucked in the short term, but at least someone on those committees had the kindness and thoughtfulness that being a superhero required.

Shivered my body, but didn't worry my soul

But Rhonda? This was the girl who couldn't go two minutes without listing off her achievements, which always consisted of materialism. She always got so irritated if someone couldn't follow her train of thought, as if she expected everyone around her to read her mind and loved putting people down in order to prop herself up. She was a punch down kinda gal, not up.

Fear is the weight of the world

Maybe it had been my fault, I realised as Lila tightened the last of the bandages. Maybe I'd been too hasty. I'd been demanding for another member—literally anyone. I hadn't stopped to specify who, or even list the desired traits. I'd just decided we needed someone to fill the empty space.

Coming down with no love in return

Technically, it had been good timing. Serec showed up tonight for the first time in weeks, and as much as I hated to admit it, had it just been the pair of us, Lila and I wouldn't have made it out.

Not to mention, it was her who was able to actually—

But still, Rhonda? Of all people? Never in a million years would I have thought our new team member—one of the four who was supposed to save the world—would be Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. And, with blistered lips and throbbing ribs, I was beginning to regret even asking.

Fear is the weight of the world

Coming down

"So, that's why you two were acting like freaks," Rhonda said, speaking for the first time in what felt like ages. Her voice was absent of the usual bite. Lila and I both looked at her, but she still stared out the window. "Well, more than usual. We thought you were secretly a couple."

"Nope," Lila beamed. "Just secretly superheroes. Oh, and I object to your using of the word freak."

"Ow, Lila!" I shouted when she slapped a large bandage onto my arm. "Can you not be so rough?"

"Well, maybe don't get injured so much," she countered with a smile.

"I didn't choose to get injured."

"Not physically, no, but emotionally you did."

"What the hell does that even mean?!"

"This . . ." Rhonda continued, as if we hadn't said anything, and when we glanced up, she was looking at the ring in her palm. It was a golden band with the face of a bird; its beak was open and sharp, it reminded me of two needles. Light filtered down from the roof, soft with heat; it rebounded from the bird's ruby glowing eye. "It's all so weird. It doesn't even feel real—it's so bizarre. Like, we're . . . apart of a movie or something."

Lila, in a burst of excitement, slapped her hands on the back of Rhonda's chair. The brunette yelped and spun around, eyes heating up as she frowned at the redhead.

"Well, technically," Lila wiggled her eyebrows, unbothered by the dirty look she was receiving. "This story has been told in plenty of ani—"

"Please don't bring up Sailor Moon," I deadpanned.

She scowled at me.

"I don't know . . ." Rhonda frowned at her ring. I could see her neck bobbing up and down as a cord knotted between her brows. It looked like whatever she was thinking, she was wrestling hard with.

"Well," Nel suddenly spoke from the passenger's seat. I felt myself scowl, still annoyed that it was the cat that got dibs while the (injured) humans were stuffed in the back. "I'm not really sure how to convince you—"

"Ah, you know what?" I rolled my shoulders. "Lemme take a crack at it."

Everyone turned to me in surprise.

I tipped my chin, a smirk curling my lips. Hey, Rhonda and I may not see eye to eye all the time, but that didn't stop the fact that we've been aware of each other since preschool. We weren't always on the best of terms but, after all these years, we still knew each other.

"Look at it this way, princess—joining us makes you apart of the, like, most exclusive club. A secret society where it's members have totally awesome powers to restore balance to the natural order while dressed in awesome, trendy uniforms that can't be bought in stores."

Yet, I mentally added, remembering those god awful costumes. The minute our image improved, I expected capitalism to swoop in, like the annoying bat it was.

"Well," Rhonda stroked her chin. "Those outfits were pretty boss . . ."

Lila grinned. "That's actually funny, Rhonda, because Helga—"

"Anyway!" I slapped a hand over her mouth before she could finish that sentence. Lila scowled, and I scowled back, then pasted on a sugary grin as I turned back to Rhonda. But she still didn't look completely convinced.

I sighed, hand dropping from Lila, and let my shoulders sag.

"Alright, listen, I know that—this, it's scary. It's majorly scary. And that this wasn't what you signed up for when you were assigned my partner for that assignment. Hell, I wasn't that chirpy about it either, no one really is—well, except Lila," I added as an afterthought. Lila beamed, letting out a little snicker, which made me smile. "But anyway, Rhonda, I'm not gonna act like I understand completely why you were chosen—whether it was Nel, or some mystic force—but . . . when I saw you out there, you . . . you transformed. I mean, obviously, that's the point of these trinkets, but I . . ."

I sucked in a breath then angled myself so that I was fully facing Rhonda.

"Something about you changed. Or hell, maybe there was no change, maybe it was always there—you always were super passionate, but . . . we need that," I said. "Lila's the speed, I'm the shield, but you . . . if you join us, you're the fire. You're the force that'll . . . it'll send our enemies amuck, trembling."

A short laugh burst from Rhonda's mouth, which she hurried to hide by clamping a hand on her mouth. But as she glanced back to me, I could see that her eyes were twinkling.

Fear is the weight of the world

Coming down with no love in return

I smiled and offered her my hand. "So, whaddya say?" Rhonda glanced at it, pausing for a moment, and I added, "Not to mention, it'll totally further the feminist movement if you become a superhero instead of a gross, stinky boy."

Lila blinked, rose her eyebrows, then nodded her head in agreement.

Rhonda grinned and shook my hand. "Okay, I'm in."

"Yes!" Lila pumped her two fists into the air and grimaced when she hit the roof.

"Wonderful!" Nel beamed.

"We're glad to have you on the team, Rhonda," Lila said, clamping her hands down onto the back of Rhonda's chair and peering around the headrest with a gentle smile.

"Well, that's to be expected," Rhonda beamed, placing her hands on her hips and puffing out her chest. "And as team leader, I decree that—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa—time out!" I interjected, making a T sign with my hands and moved forward in my seat. "Who died and made you the boss? I'm the leader!"

"Ha! That's hard to believe!" Rhonda said with a flick of her hair. I gaped, mind spinning. Because like that, the old Rhonda was back. "Everyone knows that red is the colour of authority. And I'm obviously better suited for the position, I know what it takes to be a powerful woman!"

"So do I!"

"There's cracks in your image!" Rhonda snapped then jabbed her thumb at her chest. "I deserve to be in charge!"

"You ran away!"

"I was distracting them!"

"Oh, so that's what you're calling it?!"

"Yes, if I hadn't so selflessly deserted the team, none of you would have gotten away!"

"We wouldn't have even been there had it not been for you!"

And as we continued to bicker, our screams filling up the car, Nel and Lila both stared between us. Then, Lila sighed, putting her cheek in her hand. "I hope you realise what you've done, Nel . . ."

Nel also sighed. "As do I . . ."

"What do you mean my head is too big to be leader?!"

"I mean that your forehead looks like a ten head on a good day!"

"Well, at least I'm not obnoxious, moronic and—OW! FUCK!"

"Helga, just try to relax. You're stressing yourself out."

"Oh, well, why don't you, Lila, try to shut u—OW, LILA!"

---

And there we have it, chapter 21! We now have a third member and know her powers! It's Intangibility, which, if you don't know, is defined as the ability to phase through solid matter. So, think of Kitty Pryde, that's Rhonda's power! I quite like her superpowers, I think it suits her rather nicely, and if anyone has questions, just shoot them at my tumblr! I definitely can go into more indepth about that there! But yeah, thoughts? On this new dynamic, her superpowers, the potential? I wanna hear all about them!

No Arnold unfortunately, but don't worry, way more of him and Shortaki next chapter! There's discussions about superheroing (as the girls need to explain everything to Rhonda) but no actual superheroes, just a normal, slice of life chapter! Excited to write a breather, especially given how injured Helga is. So, let's move onto the reviews!

Kryten: Yeah, right? They're just such good characters to use and they work really well together! I actually recently revamped my disney+ account so I'll be sure to check that out, I haven't heard of it but I love watching animated shows, so it's on the top of my list! Thanks for the rec! There's definitely more to Rhonda that meets the eye (which I guess is a pretty consistent theme with all of them) and I cannot wait to get into that! She's a very misunderstood girl (although that's definitely self inflicted, haha)! Thanks for reviewing!

acosta perez jose ramiro: Hey, long time no see! Absolutely, there's sure to be tension in the group now as Helga's still dealing with Phoebe's betrayal on top of having to closely with someone she's not very keen on as a person. Excited to dive more into that in the next chapter! Hopefully you enjoyed this one!

Song(s) Mentioned: You Could Be Mine by Guns N Roses and Fear by Seratones