Disclaimer: The views and opinions in this story are not intended to be viewed as those of the author. The following is a fan-written fiction. Gravity Falls, Star vs. The Forces of Evil, Kim Possible, and Big Bad Beetleborgs are property of their respective owners, creators, and publishers. Please support the official releases.

TW: This story will contain references to physical and psychological abuse, murder, and torture. Furthermore, several chapters of Volume 8 (and for the next several volumes) are set during a time period of extreme racial prejudice and traditionally sexist views towards both men and women. Reader discretion is advised.


Defensive

As Barla observed, a police perimeter had been established by the authorities, the Echo Creek Police Department was bolstered by the LA County Sheriff's Office, Los Angeles Police Department, and Glendale Police Department. Throughout the battle, SWAT Teams from the latter departments had gone in and aided in the evacuation of civilians from inside the perimeter, while several heavily armed units proceeded closer to the scene.

Overhead, the Magnavore Jet Fighters had kept manned news helicopters out of the scene, but large quadrotor drones had no such concerns and had their cameras on the battle right up to the moment a great flash of light beamed down from the San Gabriels and ended the fight in an instant.

When some of those cameras pointed towards the source, they saw no sign of the new attacker. News reporters from all over Los Angeles were covering the incident broadcast all over the city.

"… As you can see right now, whatever attacked the monster invading Echo Creek has vanished. We're unsure if it was another attack from the magical girl, Star Butterfly or something else."

In the Diaz home, Rafael and Angie were both cheering in relief at their son and charge standing victorious again. Elise, however, had her face scrunched in consternation. Behind her, standing by the door, were two plain clothes Detectives of the Echo Creek Police Department. An African American male in his late 30s with short-shaved hair, wearing a suit and sunglasses, and a Japanese American woman in her late 20s with bright red hair, and her own styled suit and sunglasses combo.

"For those of you just tuning in now, we're covering yet another attack on the town of Echo Creek by heavily armed and aggressive members of an unknown organization. As previously, this attack has been foiled by a group of young people local to the area, described by some as 'teenagers with attitude' and 'a bunch of weirdos.'"

In Middleton, Colorado, Ron Stoppable looked up from his meal at Bueno Nacho at one of the televisions in the restaurant showing the crisis underway in Echo Creek. "I wouldn't call them weirdos, they all seemed pretty cool."

Across from them, Kim Possible had a worried expression. "Well… so much for no one taking them seriously…"

Next to her, Kim's boyfriend Eric narrowed his eyes a bit. "Yeah, if the news is covering it like this, then they're no longer small-time heroes getting into cosplay fights, are they?"

Seated beside Ron, Bonnie Rockwaller fed a nacho cheese slathered tortilla chip to Ron's naked mole rat Rufus, while she leaned against Ron. "So… are you guys going back to help?"

"If they ask," Kim replied.

"This is just the latest in a series of escalating incidents that came to the attention of law enforcement in the Los Angeles area, following the sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects and the discharge of energy weapons in the airspace over Echo Creek, and a more dramatic incident the following day where a Goodyear Blimp was attacked and brought down. The crew of the blimp in that incident suffered only minor injuries and are expected to make full recoveries."

At his home, Shermie Pines watched the news grimly, his attention focused on the drone image capturing his Granddaughter and their friends standing out in the open–clearly in discussion over their recent battle. His right hand rested atop Waddles head, the pig lazing on the couch next to him. "Haven't seen this kind of craziness downtown since the King riots."

He looked down at the pig. "Think girlchik will mind if you tag along for some good ol' fashioned gunrunning? If they're making the evening news, don't think I can put off the trip any longer."

Waddles, looking at the TV, oinked in agreement.

"A government source who's spoken under condition of anonymity has stated that the serial escalation of the conflict in Echo Creek has been brought under the scrutiny of not only state but Federal law enforcement–going as high as the Department of Defense."

Dipper and Misao stared at the latter's phone, after the latter received a text message from Elise advising her–urgently–to bring up the local news and watch.

"Maybe sending Janna out was a bad idea," Misao said.

"No, we needed the firepower to push her back," Dipper decided. "And we may need even more of it."

He looked up at the main computer screen and two windows open on it. One showing Gargantis' current status and the other showing Gargantis in an alternate configuration: its large silver carapace opened and the three AVs mounted on its unfolded back.

"… And we've just received word that the police are slowly closing the perimeter on the teenage vigilantes, in order to detain them for questioning."

The news was only reporting what was already happening, for on the street in front of Britta's, the LA County Sheriff, LAPD, and Glendale Police Department SWAT Teams that had been creeping towards the group exited their cover and approached them with Carbine Rifles, Submachine Guns, and Shotguns trained, shouting orders to get on the ground and place their hands behind their heads.

Unsurprisingly, given they'd just fought an extremely powerful creature from another dimension, they were not immediately moved to comply by the display.

"Oh, the cops are here," Jo said, "This is not surprising but still very inconvenient."

Jackie was downright indignant. "Dude, I am not getting arrested for helping people."

It was about then that Dipper called in. "You guys need to get out of there, the cops are moving in to arrest you."

Mabel chimed back. "They're trying!"

Roland was tense. "So… we have to exit."

Drew agreed. "Yeah, but how without them getting really determined to chase us down?"

Misao radioed in. "Our legal representation says that you can disengage and leave the scene as long as you don't make any aggressive action but suggests that one of you should stay to distract the cops. She'll get you out without any charges."

Marco looked at the others. "I'll give them someone to take in. You guys get out of here."

Jackie looked at him, worried. "Dude, don't."

"If Elise says she can get one of us out, then fine. It'll give them someone to yell at."

Mabel nodded. "And feel good about themselves for not being able to do anything else."

"The po-po do be like that," Jo lamented.

Drew turned to Marco, grateful. "Thanks, Marco… and be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, bruh, you're a real one," Roland praised.

Jackie looked even more conflicted as Marco looked back at them and offered a weak smile.

Star, on the other hand, quickly caught Marco in a hug. "Thank you, Marco. I'll see you soon, okay? I'm not going to deactivate the spell so they can't rough you up, too much."

Marco hugged her back. "Thank you, mi cariñito."

Pulling from her, Marco placed his hands behind his head, got down on his knees, and then laid flat on the ground. Star quickly cut a portal open with the Dimensional Scissors, and she, the Beetleborgs, Mabel, and lastly Jackie took off through the portal. As it closed behind them, the combined SWAT Teams rushed over and placed Marco–still under the protection of Star's Rainbow Sentai spell–in handcuffs.

Overhead, the news channel drones captured the scene in the highest quality, a reporter offering a play by play.

"… The police are moving in and have detained one of the vigilantes, but it appears the others have used some kind of portal technology to escape apprehension…"

At Zoom Comics, Heather watched the unfolding news with a hand over her mouth in quiet shock. At one of the tables, Alfonso and Ferguson were in disbelief.

"Dude… they got Marco," Ferguson said in dismay.

"Free Marco! This will not stand!" Alfonso declared. "This is considered by the Pixie Kingdom an act of war!"

Behind the cash register, Nano scowled angrily at the pathetic display on television. "I'm about to go down to the station and flip that whole mother upside down!"

As Heather nodded in agreement, she noticed out the corner of her eye someone walking past the front of the shop outside. It was TC, now wearing a black hoodie with the same picture as on his t-shirt and pulling the hood up and over his hat as he walked.

In a living room not too far from Echo Creek, a young man with messy black hair and lighter brown highlights running through it, dark blue eyes, and dressed in a stained blue hoodie and baggy beige pants sank into his couch with a look of utter disgust as he watched the police, and the media reporting make a big show of apprehending one of their suspects.

"… From 'young people local to the area' to 'vigilantes' in the span of a news report," the young man said bitterly. "That must be a record."

Getting up, he grabbed the television remote and threw it with all his might into the television screen. It struck with such force that it punched a hole through the screen and out the back. He turned away from the destroyed TV and headed for the stairs to his room.

"Whoops, looks like Dad will have to use his next paycheck for a new TV."


At Noxic's workshop, the factory assembling Scabs was well underway, with Noxic himself nodding appreciatively as he oversaw the work. "The first batch did pretty well, overall. I gotta say."

Jara sat at a table; her right hand flat on its surface while she stabbed the spaces between her fingers at increasing speed with her short sword. "They could be better, though. Why haven't you bothered?"

Noxic placed his hands on his hips. "The Commander Types are a few circuit-boards removed from my bespoke creations. I ain't giving any of those to Vexor!"

Typhus, who was sitting across from Jara, chimed in. "The Commanders also have their own personalities and can talk. And uh… you know how that sorta thing goes with Noxic, baby."

Noxic turned around to face Typhus. "Hey! The Commanders work! I programmed them based off Jara, so they got discipline, honor, and all that warrior stuff she likes!"

Jara almost stabbed through the table. "… They do now?"

Quickly, her mechanical friend backtracked. "Conceptually, on paper. I haven't actually built any Commanders nor programmed their AI."

This was a lie.

Jara knew this.

Noxic knew that she knew. And so did Typhus.

Barla arrived before she could properly interrogate Noxic about the last known status of these conceptual, on paper, units programmed after her likeness. The black dragon armored warrior was in one piece, physically at least, and her armor had receded to its lighter state. Her face, however, bore a mask of turmoil that even Noxic could recognize at a glance–being friends with Jara for so long had taught him much.

"Barla!" Jara said as she yanked her sword out of the table. "The Scabs were destroyed, but their last report showed you doing well. How did the battle end?"

Marching up to Jara, Barla grabbed her shoulder and got close to her. "You are underestimating them."

Jara's mood soured. "I am doing no such thing! They are children, Barla, they are not like us!"

Without hesitating, Barla shouted right back at her. "We were children once, too, Jara! We were once unsure and without focus, surviving by providence, and winning by any means because we had nothing else but the determination to survive!"

Noxic almost physically lit up and rushed to Typhus' side. "Hey, buddy! More Jara lore!" He whispered excitedly.

"Shut up, I'm tryna listen!" Typhus whispered back.

"You called them children playing out a fantasy," Barla said sternly. "I saw none of that when I faced the one who felled Saberizer. Or as the others actually fought like they understood their mission."

Jara sneered. "They read comic books like they are addicts. Anything that comes out of their mouths is probably taken verbatim from that trash."

"Conviction is more than words! I think you've spent too long with your client to remember what that is!"

Barla's words sent a flash of fury through Jara. "I remember what conviction is just fine! There is none of that with any of those children. Much less the Butterfly or that blue-wearing lucky idiot!"

"Lucky is surviving one battle. How many have you fought with them that has seen you come back here, stewing in your injured pride and resentment?" Barla demanded. "How many times did they best you before you thought to bring Saberizer here, only for HIM to be defeated?! You call that luck?!"

"I call that being saved by their powers, not by anything of their own!"

Barla's eyes flashed yellow, before she viciously slapped Jara across her face. The force of the blow was enough to knock Jara's mask clean off, sending it clattering to the ground towards the pile of scrap that bordered Noxic's workshop. Armored cape and all, Jara staggered to the side, frozen in shock.

Her face twisted in rage; Barla seethed. "You are not the Commander I fought alongside. The woman who helped me defeat a Star Eating Dragon and forged its body into this armor as a mark of pride and confidence in my abilities."

Tears welled up in Barla's eyes. "You're nothing but a pathetic shell, so torn up over being beaten by 'mere children' when the woman I remember would have been impressed and sought to bring them into her ranks. Or would regard them with actual respect."

She turned away from her. "I'm confident that Saberizer would've acknowledged being defeated by that boy in the blue armor. In fact, I am certain he did. What I do not know is what happened to you that made you so wretched."

She glanced back at her, but only briefly. "From now on, I will be taking orders only from the client. Do not show yourself before me, Jara. I cannot bear the sight of you."

With a nod, Barla disappeared in a burst of black flame. Left wrecked in her wake, Jara slowly sank to the ground, still frozen in shock and disbelief.

Typhus and Noxic had been so excited for Jara lore, but now they most certainly were not. Both looked at one another, unsure of what to do as they looked from Jara to her dislodged mask, and then back at her. She was not facing them, thank goodness, so neither could see her face–or the look they could only imagine on it.

Unsure of what to say, Typhus got up from the chair. "Hey, Jara, baby… do you need a minute…?"

It felt like an eternity had passed, before she replied. "More than a minute."

Typhus nodded and turned to Noxic. "Hey, we gotta get ready for phase two anyway. Let's give her some room."

Noxic agreed. "Hey, Jara, if you need to blow off some steam, you can have a couple Scabs to trash. Just give the command, okay?"

With that, Jara's two companions nodded their heads and also departed in flashes of fire.

Left alone in the workshop, Jara looked at her mask, lying in the dirt but facing as if to stare back at her. It was a face she'd gotten so used to seeing that she'd long forgotten what her actual face looked like.

Slowly, she brought her fingerless gloved hand up to her right cheek. Touching her skin, she almost flinched at the sensation as she kept staring at the mask.

"Barla…" She said quietly. "… You could never understand. You never will."

Vivid images flashed behind before her eyes. Comrades frozen in stone, locked in horror, casting long shadows beneath a light that caused even the sun to leave a shadow. Of a smiling face like an angel in the terrifying heart of that incandescence, with glowing marks on its cheeks.

She shook her head, banishing that nightmare from her sight. The pure rage and vile disgust the memory stained in her almost drove her to retch, but she held her composure.

"I cannot, I will not accept defeat from those things, even if I must die."

Once more she shook her head as the image of Star Butterfly jumped at her.

"Not another Butterfly, and certainly not a child treating our lives and pain like a game–a joke."

The image of the Blue Stingerborg haunted her with as much searing pain.

"Not after that day."


Marco had been taken to the Echo Creek Police Department, and promptly brought to an interrogation room in handcuffs. Rather than a concrete room with a cold and intimidating atmosphere, it was rather cozy and professional with a carpeted floor, comfortable couch and a chair beside it, a desk and chair combo across from the couch, and a wooden door. It seemed like a school counselor's office–except for the CCTV cameras in each corner of the room.

Since he'd been taken into custody, he hadn't uttered a word to anyone, as instructed. The police didn't make it easy, either, trying to strike up a conversation about everything on the way to the station and from the unloading zone to this interrogation room. Since they did not take him in for booking, he realized that he was not under arrest, which made him wonder why they had him in here.

Good, Elise really will get me out of here without trouble, he thought, before he looked around and realized. Wow, I've been detained by the cops… this is gonna do big numbers at school.

He couldn't not be excited by that idea. Not only was he technically taken into police custody, but they had to get the SWAT Team on him, and it was on some BS reasonings. The bad boy was actually a hero, and still getting heat for it!

A thought then occurred to him, that the main reasons he wanted to be a bad boy was so that people would not drag him for being the Safe Kid… but since that day a few weeks back, he was friends with people that were already more important to him than popularity.

The door opened, then, and Marco looked up as a woman wearing a lime-green business casual suit walked in. At first sight, everything about the woman screamed "Karen", from her shoulder length blonde hair, the light makeup applied in vain to hide the lines of middle age, and the sheer contemptuous look she had the very moment she looked down on him. In her left hand she carried a clipboard with a single sheet of paper on it.

"Mr. Marco Ubaldo Diaz, am I correct?" She asked with the enunciation of a teacher who had a delinquent dead to rights.

He didn't reply, exercising his right to remain silent while avoiding eye contact with the woman. She looked at the paper again, then let out a short quick laugh. "You're in High School, so I don't need to ask if you realize your initials spell out MUD."

That stung. Marco really didn't like his middle name, but he held his tongue. She was trying to get a rise out of him, get him to say even one word.

Seeing that she got nothing, the woman took a seat at the desk and folded one leg over the other. "My name is Tara Bouger, I'm a special investigator with the Glendale Police Department, working as part of a task force with the Echo Creek Police Department, Los Angeles Police Department, and LA County Sheriff's office."

She tapped on the paper. "Young man, do you realize how much trouble you're in, with what you've done, today?"

Marco almost immediately wanted to ask, "What do you mean what I've done?" but once again, he realized she was trying to get him to do exactly that. He held his tongue and kept looking away from her.

Tara's eyes narrowed at his lack of response, and she looked down at the paper. "From the looks of things, you're running around with a very dangerous looking crowd. Getting into fights in the streets, causing property damage, and wielding some pretty exotic weapons with the intent to harm."

She looked up from the paper at him and got no response. "To say nothing of the people you're fighting with, who we have no idea what kind of crap they're on. What is it? A rival gang? Another cosplay crew muscling on your turf? Is there someone pulling some strings, giving you an incentive to get out there and cause trouble?"

Again, Marco said nothing.

"Because we don't know what's going on," she continued, "Which is why we had to arrest you."

Marco knew he wasn't arrested. He was being detained but not arrested. He did not realize cops could just lie like that.

"Are you going to keep quiet like this? Because we need to know what's going on before people start getting hurt, Mr. Diaz, so we can work together here and bring in whoever is responsible for all this violence."

Bring them in? Marco really could not imagine Jara, Typhus, or even Noxic obediently being booked like common criminals. It would never happen, not in a billion years, and he was pretty sure no one in this police station could bring them in if they tried.

Tara leaned forward slightly, her eyes hard despite her empathetic appeal. "Who's making you do this? Who's putting you out there in harm's way, kiddo?"

Marco glanced out the corner of his eye at Tara, and when she sat back to wait for his answers expectantly, he looked away again. This seemed to get a rise out of the woman, who bristled slightly at Marco's silence.

"It's in your best interest to come clean," Tara explained. "We've got you attached to a lot of things, and how that plays out for you in court depends entirely on if you can clarify how involved you are."

She was trying to scare him with threats of facing a judge. Was Marco a criminal? Of course not, he was fairly sure coming to the defense of others and defending himself was not a crime. Not that he'd speak up to defend himself. He was starting to wonder what she'd say next to try to scare him. Maybe something about his school record and how badly an arrest would look for his future?

"And we want to avoid that," Tara continued. "You don't have a record, and from what we know about you… you're a top student at your school with healthy college prospects. UCLA isn't going to like any kind of gang affiliations."

Huh, he called it.

Also, gang affiliations? Kim did say that cosplay heroes and villains were a thing, how bad was it?

Both he and Tara sat in silence after that, Marco stonewalling her efforts at getting any words from her and the woman clearly not liking the impasse. Every so often he'd glance at her, and see the corners of her lips tug downward, or the wrinkles on her forehead furrow as she sought an angle or opening to get him to speak up.

Suddenly, a small smile played on her lips, like she'd found something. "You don't want to worry your parents, do you?"

Marco tensed. She was going there, wasn't she?

"They seem like decent folks, but you and that exchange student living with you… your actions aren't going to reflect kindly on them," she pointed out. "Especially if we can find proof that your parents are encouraging this kind of reckless endangerment."

She stopped. "I mean, most certainly your exchange student friend will have to go back to her home… wherever that is, but…" She looked at the paper again, then at his face. "You do realize if your father does get in trouble for this, he's going back to where he came from and will never be allowed back here, right?"

Anger flashed over Marco's face, and he slowly looked back at the woman. He'd seen that look in her eyes as their gazes met, a genuine enjoyment that she got a reaction out of him, a pleasure in that she knew exactly what button to hit and how hard to hit it.

It reminded him too much of that vapidly smug and superior face of one Trip ex-Vanderhoff.

"We don't want that any more than you do, Mr. Diaz," she continued. "So, cooperate with us here. Tell us what's going on."

Marco stood stone still, staring at the woman, everything but his lips moving as he shook in anger.

The door opened, and two Echo Creek Police Department Detectives walked in. An African American male in his late 30s with short-shaved hair, and a Japanese American woman in her late 20s with bright red hair. Both wore sharp suit and sunglasses combos, and both were accompanied by Elise.

"Special Investigator Bouger, I am Detective Xavier Bishop of the Echo Creek Police Department, and this is my partner, Detective Mirai Hashimoto." The first detective introduced himself in a deep commanding baritone. "With us is the legal representative for Mr. Marco Diaz, Elise Dinkleman."

Marco sagged in relief when he saw Elise. Finally, he could get out of here. In that brief moment, he had never been angrier at anyone. Not even Trip, not even Toffee… he was already exhausted, and this felt like the worst night of his short life.

Tara stood up and greeted them. "Oh, detectives. Lawyer."

There was an icy, and dismissive tone when she said lawyer, like she was speaking to an insect.

"Yes, I am a Lawyer," Elise replied. "With Baxter and Taylor. You've heard of them, yes?"

At the mention of "Baxter and Taylor," Marco saw a glorious thing. All the color seemed to drain from Tara's formerly smug face as if she'd just been locked in a room with a very large, very hungry grizzly bear and there was a freshly killed deer leg tied directly to her neck.

She quickly coughed and tried to recompose herself. "I'm sorry, d-did you just say Baxter and Taylor?"

Elise reached into her pocket and produced a card. "Here you go, in case you want to contact me in the future."

Tara took the card and read it, that paleness of her face gained a greenish hue that was starting to match her obscenely bright business dress.

Detective Bishop grimaced at the woman's reaction, and then looked at Marco's beaming countenance. If he hadn't had the same reaction Tara had when Ms. Dinkleman introduced herself, he'd be enjoying it as much as he was. "We're releasing Mr. Diaz into her custody. He's not been charged with anything, so he's not under arrest."

He turned to Marco. "Sorry about this, son, you're free to go."

"I hope you've been keeping my client good company, and making him feel both welcomed and safe," Elise continued. "He's had a rough day, and it would look pretty bad on all the departments involved if he had anything to complain about."

She turned to Marco. "Well, anything to complain about?"

Marco was now smiling ear-to-ear. "Nope! Everything was fine actually. I didn't have anything to say, but she sure did make the minutes fly talking about nothing at all."

He turned to Tara, still smiling. "Right?"

At that moment, Marco was pretty sure he got a glimpse of pure hatred as Tara looked at him with an impotent fury that dwarfed Trip ex-Vanderhoff's rage and his own for Trip in turn. Three words had punched this woman's soul out of her, and if she didn't want to get it suplexed on cement, she knew she could only respond with one.

"Right," she replied like she was being forced to bow in supplication by the Echo Creek PD Detectives.

Tonight was a great night; Marco would do it all again just for this. 10 out of 10, no notes.

"All right," he said. "I'm ready to go."

Elise nodded and gestured for him to follow her. "Right this way, Marco, your family is waiting at home with pizza and wings."

"Sounds great, I'm starving," Marco said as he followed Elise out of the interrogation room.

As they left and the door swung all but shut, Tara whirled upon the two detectives. "You must be out of your God Damn minds if you actually believe that that… that punk has the most powerful law firm in this country as his representation!"

"He does," Detective Bishop said. "We checked the Bar; we called their office. Elise Dinkleman is an attorney employed by them, and they have record of Marco Diaz being a client of Baxter and Taylor effective yesterday. Him, Star Butterfly, Mason and Mabel Pines, and Misao Darlian. The daughter of HHI's Momiji Hyuuga Misao Darlian."

Tara recoiled. "Wait… the daughter of…" She looked a bit dizzy at that. "Momiji Hyuuga does not have a daughter."

Detective Bishop's partner spoke up. "She does, they keep it kind of low profile because… well… when Shego attacked the school, yesterday… she was after her."

Detective Bishop pinched the bridge of his nose. "That… is another can of worms we don't want to open."

Tara dropped back on the couch, deeply shaken. "So… that's it? We can't touch any of them?"

Detective Hashimoto sighed. "Nope. At this point, you'd need the DoD to actually go after them now. And given that Baxter and Taylor represent some of the Pentagon's most important contractors…"

Slowly, the blonde shook her head. She was struggling now with the earth-turning revelation. "When you called Glendale to assist; you guys implied that this was just another bunch of SheZows running around causing trouble."

"We thought that, too, until this afternoon," Detective Hashimoto said in consolation.

"From what we have been told so far, the situation is very difficult and at the moment may possibly be a global-scale threat," Detective Bishop explained. "We'll be getting a full brief on the situation by the end of the week. But for right now, we need to downplay and diminish this to avoid causing a panic."

Tara snapped alert, then, and glared at the two detectives. "A global-scale threat? And we're just leaving it to a bunch of punk kids with guns?!"

"I did say it was difficult," Detective Bishop reiterated.

Detective Hashimoto shrugged her shoulders. "Shoot, we let Kim Possible get away with it."

"Kim Possible isn't a costumed delinquent causing property damage and making a show about it!" Tara snapped back at them.

「しょうがない。」 Detective Hashimoto simply said in Japanese, earning a nod in agreement from Detective Bishop, before she switched to English. "What can we do?"

"I believe there's also an implication that we should assist however we can," Detective Bishop said. "It may be unacceptable to some of us, but for the third time… this is a difficult situation. If we don't like it, how can any of them like it any better?"

Tara had heard enough and got up from the couch to push past them. "Detectives," she said as she reached the door and stopped. "Take it from someone who is familiar with the mind of a vigilante: they are degenerates who do as they please because they have powers, a secret identity, or a cult following. They love it and they will lord it over those we who are bound by duty to uphold the law. If they get too powerful? The law itself will break down and they will become the law."

She pointed at both of them. "Do not hand your balls over to these brats. Pentagon Lawyers or not, we are the law. We enforce the law. And we must not let any costumed freaks think they can flaunt it. Or their friends."

With that she marched out of the room.

The redhead detective looked up at her partner, left eyebrow raised way up. "… X, she is really the last person to be talking that shit."

Detective Bishop pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, Mirai, I know."


New enemies, new allies, and... seemingly random people who don't like the police? Who knows!