Amy walked side by side with her sister through the mall, Vicky was chatting away pointing to different clothing outlets, trying her hardest to get their mother to detour into any of them to try on the latest trendy outfits. Mom, in typical fashion wasn't having any of Vicky's charm and guided us through the mall to a specific shop. Tucked away in an almost hidden corner, B's Trend pronounced in blocky gold and black lettering.

Ugh, this was so going to be a wasted afternoon as Mom inevitably argued back and forth about getting just the right suit cut for whatever meeting was coming up.

"Vicky, heads or tails on who has to ask Mom about looking at other shops?" I turned to my sister with a cheeky grin and I pulled out my lucky coin.

"Tails! One of these days its gotta land on it. I can feel it!" With her challenging words I flicked the coin high, its golden gleam shining in the shops fluorescent lights. With a well practiced swipe, I caught it mid-air and showed Victoria the palm of my hand.

Heads

"You lose again Sis" I giggled a small laugh at her.

"No fair! You have to teach me that little trick sometime Amy." She crossed her arms and turned away in a faux defeat, but I could see her small smile as Vicky marched on up to our mother. I couldn't help but smile myself as I watched her walk away.

I didn't bother listening in the words being said between my mother and sister, it almost always played out the same.

A token refusal from Mom, a slight turn of her head back to the lady making adjustments to her suit.

Push back from Vicky. "We won't go far, just over there!" I wasn't really paying attention to the words but by her hand gesture, I was close to correct.

Eyes tightening, Mom looked over us both, then to the store that was our apparent destination. A small nod and my sister had done it, victory. In that small timeframe my sister had done what was almost impossible for me to achieve, getting Mom to go off plan.

The boutique that we ended up going into wasn't anything special, to me at least. Vicky seemed to be right at home browsing the aisles and picking out anything that caught her eye, and that was good enough for me. Malls weren't really my scene anyways.

Today, as fate would have it. Seemed that malls really weren't my scene.

Glass shattering and screams where all I could hear for much too long, alarms blared soon after and all I could do was curl up and close my eyes for the world to make sense again. Too much time for my liking had actually passed before I was rocked out of my stupor. I opened my eyes to see the concerned eyes of Vicky above me. I knew this was bad just from the sight of her above me, hovering above the shattered glass on the floor. We had trained for this specific occasion, or at least she had, having powers granted her that right in our family. Sure I participated every now and again but I wasn't invincible like she was.

"I'm going to go and help Mom" Her words kick started my own emergency train and I took stock of the current situation. Beyond the broken window of the boutique was Mom, twinned glowing swords of light in hand as she cut down waves of completely identical men in black and purple. My sister flew off without another word and joined her, the duo of mother and daughter were spectacular in a way that was hard to describe, nothing could touch either of the two.

Mom, in all her cold fury, cut down the clones with a stone face. The bodies fading away with every slice or cut of her light-blades. She twisted and flowed in ways that were hard to comprehend to my untrained eyes. Glowing swords and fading motes of ash, in that moment I understood why she was called Brandish.

Victoria Dallon, my sister, seemed to be in her element. Whereas none of the clones could touch my mother because of her superior experience and lethality, none could touch my sister because of her forcefield. Punches, kicks and even thrown objects either bounced or fell off of her form.

It was incredible to watch and all I could do was stare, the duo made short work of anything that came too close.

That blossoming hope soon fell short as an unfamiliar scream tore through the mall once again and I fell to my knees in the doorway of the clothing store, when I recovered, I looked up to see a woman in a two-faced theatre mask making her way to where my two family members were also recovering.

"New Wave's Brandish and Glory Girl, what a surprise to see you here!" The words were spoken with a manic glee. "You'll make a fine starting point for Chorus to begin our rise in Brockton Bay!" Another scream tore free of her throat that further disoriented anyone who could hear, myself included.

Eyes closed in a much too familiar fashion by now, I covered my ears and cowered in what small safety I could find. Screams, alarms and other disorienting sounds drowning out everything I could hear. It was all too much for me.

I wasn't Vicky.

I couldn't fly. I couldn't fly, couldn't pick up cars, could't fight.

And so I cried, this was all too much for me. I clutched at my Mom's lucky coin in my pocket and cried.

Only when did I hear someone else's cries did I pause to open my eyes and look.

It was my sister, Victoria Dallon, laying in front of me, eyes wide and fearful as she clutched uselessly at tear in her abdomen, blood flowing freely down her shirt.

All I could focus on was her face, bright blue eyes that were bloodshot. Hair that was once brushed straight and smooth, now tangled and unkempt. Dirt and scuff marks lined her face in an unflattering way.

Perfection broken.

Stained.

Mared.

She was broke and with her, I broke too.

I clutched harder at my coin and prayed to fix her.