What was the real difference between heroes and villains? Between good and evil? Which was the right side?

Perhaps, once upon a time, questions like that had been important to Ihwa. The war, the pain, the suffering. The never ending violence.

The death of her sister.

Promise me.

The words echoed in her mind, like a broken record. She bared her teeth, lifting herself into the air, feeling the burn through her arms. Sweat dripped down her forehead.

The warehouse was cool and empty, the sun flickering from windows above. Her sister's red eyes burned into ashless, dying infernos. Ihwa and her sister were so similar in appearance, although her sister's eyes were slightly duller, and her smile was more soft. She would never smile again.

Ihwa would kill them all. That was final.

After a few more reps, she got back on her feet. She got on her knees and did pushups, alongside weight-lighting. Her muscles ached as time went on and on.

Time for a break.

She had a cool shower, slipped on some clean clothes, and helped herself to a few bottles of water.

She turned her attention to a large board on the wall. On it were images of various heroes. One of them was Translucent, whose visage had been crossed out with a red marker.

"Your training is finally complete."

It was her master's voice. He sat in his wheelchair, his presence radiating his cold indifference. He was the man who had trained her, the one whose advice she kept in the back of her head. He was behind her, miles away, yet never truly gone. A ghost still clinging onto her shoulder.

He had said something similar before she had killed Translucent. All the training, all the pain had been leading to that moment.

"Since when did I ask for your help?" she had replied. "I haven't needed your help for a while, now."

"Fine," he'd grunted, cooly. "Then show me."

"There," she muttered, turning away. "I'm ready."

Time to get to work.

It was a different shade of life at the cafe. Ihwa served customers with a smile, handing out hot beverages and small pastries. Her boss patted her affectionately on the shoulder. It was simple and sweet. Customers walked in, having not the slightest clue that their lovely waitress had literally murdered one of the Seven not too long ago.

Of course, things never stayed serene.

As Ihwa cleaned up some plates, she heard her boss clear his throat.

"Oh, Ihwa, there was a man looking for you," he said. "He was here just before you came in."

Ihwa tilted her head, walking behind the counter. "Who?"

"Young-ish," the man answered. "White, 6 foot something, brown hair. His name was… what was it, Harry? Or Hughie, I think…"

The devil heard the call of its name as Hughie Campbell himself appeared right at the register, eyeing Ihwa. She stared back.

"That's him," said her boss.

Ihwa went over to Hughie, her red eyes piercing his brown ones. Despite him being much taller, he still seemed to shrink back.

"Um," he said. "Hi. I, um. I didn't know you worked as a waitress. When Butcher said you were here, I-"

"What can I get you?" she asked.

Hughie shrugged. "Oh, it's just Butcher said I should hang with you since you-"

"No," Ihwa interrupted. "What do you want to order."

"Oh, uh," Hughie sweat-beaded. "I'm good, I had a drink just before."

Ihwa kept staring at him. Hughie felt like her eyes were piercing into his skull.

"Ok, ok," he sighed. "I'll have a latte then."

Ihwa returned a few moments later, a fresh latte in hand. She put it in front of Hughie. He was seated at a table by the back, his hands trembling.

"Thanks," Hughie tried to smile, picking up the drink.

Ihwa sat opposite to him. She watched him pick up the cup and take a sip.

"Um," he said.

"Good?" Ihwa asked.

"Y-yeah," he replied. "Um. Really good. Yeah."

"Good," Ihwa replied. She dug a knife out of her apron, casually twirling it in her fingers. "Why are you here?"

"Butcher said you're supposed to keep an eye on me," Hughie muttered, "or something."

"How did you know I was here?" Ihwa asked.

Hughie tilted his head. "Well-"

"Butcher," Ihwa answered her own question. She wasn't a fan of Butcher digging into her location. She would be having a hard word with him later. Or a punch.

"Yeah," Hughie said. "He told me to stay close."

Ihwa blinked. "I'm not your guardian."

"Not really any choice," Hughie sighed. "Look, if you - no, if we want to stay working with the others… then we have to do what they say, Hero Killer. I don't totally trust them, but I think they can help us."

Ihwa didn't respond. As much as she was tired of being bossed around, she couldn't ditch Butcher or his cronies just yet. Butcher was still withholding too much important info. Info that she would, unfortunately, take a while to weed out of him. At least looking out for the white toast civilian techie would slip in a few good favours.

"Ah, Ihwa," Ihwa's boss called out, "there's someone else here for you."

"Ihwa?" Hughie asked. "So that's your name…"

Ihwa turned to her boss. He was staring at the window; a certain familiar hero was pushing his face against it, cheeks smooshed.

Ihwa glowered; what did Chaos think he was doing? She stormed outside, holding out her fists.

"Wait!" Chaos waved his hands in surrender. "I just want to talk."

And so, that's how Ihwa, Chaos, and Hughie ended up sitting around a small table, inside the little cafe.

Hughie sipped his coffee, trying to avoid eye contact with both Ihwa and Chaos.

"Still dragging around this meat-sack, huh?" Chaos asked Ihwa, jerking a thumb at Hughie.

Hughie glared at him. "I… I'm not a-"

"Why are you here?" Ihwa asked.

Chaos smirked. "I want to give you some information. Something you'll find… very useful."

"Why are you helping us?" Hughie asked.

Chaos tilted his head. "I've taken an interest in you two. Well, mainly you, Hero Killer, although I suppose your lackey here has his uses."

Hughie gritted his teeth.

"What is this information?" Ihwa asked.

"A group of villains is planning to blow up one of Vought's strongholds," Chaos replied.

"We know," Ihwa said. "We've already heard about it from-"

"Oh, I haven't gotten to the good part yet," Chaos tilted his head. "Have either of you heard of Compound V?"

Ihwa and Hughie shook their heads.

"Well," Chaos cleared his throat, "while some heroes are born with gifts, most get their powers from a special drug called Compound V, which was given to them as babies. The Seven, for example."

"Wait, what?" Hughie asked

"Vought likes to act like we're God's gift to humanity," Chaos sighed, "in reality… well, it's not such a nice old fairytale."

"Why should we believe you?" Ihwa asked.

"Imagine how strong you could be if you got ahold of some Compound V," Chaos told her. "Imagine how many gifts you could steal."

Ihwa furrowed her brow. "So that's the mission."

"What do you think?" Chaos asked. "If you can get into that building before it gets blown up…"

Hughie sweat-beaded. "Um, Hero K- Ihwa, I don't think-"

"Hold on," Ihwa said.

She stood up, removing her apron. She walked over to her boss, putting it on the counter.

"I quit," she said.

Her boss didn't seem surprised, but his frown deepened.

"I understand, Ihwa," he said, sighing. He reached out a hand, placing it on her own. "Look after yourself. Just remember you'll always have a place here, okay?"

Ihwa nodded. She turned back to Hughie, who just stared at her, gawking. She then stared at Chaos.

"I don't believe you," she told him, "but I know there will be heroes at that building. Heroes that I'll kill with my own hands. And if it happens that you're right about this 'Compound V'… maybe we'll make a deal."

Chaos smiled. "Sounds good to me."