Weiss Schnee exhaled slowly and opened her eyes to meet her reflection in the mirror.
It was strange, seeing herself this way—draped in silver-edged fabric and matte armor, chainmail glinting under the muted light, the pale crossguard of Myrtenaster peaking up over her shoulder on her right. She adjusted the collar to make sure it wasn't too tight, then the fastenings over her hips. Every buckle was in place, every seam smooth, tailored to perfection.
She looked and felt like a Huntress again.
No, that wasn't true.
She looked like someone trying to remember what it felt like to be a Huntress, or what some of Remnant's pop culture tried to make Huntresses out to be. Weiss turned away from the mirror and picked up the mask that laid on her dresser. It looked like a white oval, with a pair of openings for her eyes, but no other features. According to Batman and Dinah, she could adjust it to have a white film cover her eyes should she need to, which wouldn't impact her sight in the least. She didn't put it on, though, not while Weiss was still inside her house. Instead, she grabbed her new phone from it's charging pad, this world's inferior version of her Scroll, tucked it into a pouch onher waist, and walked to the front room.
It was dark outside, and with the curtains and blinds closed, Weiss had enough privacy to walk around her home in costume, and without her black wig if she wanted to.
She moved through the living room in silence, her armored boots making soft thuds against the polished wooden floor. The moonlight barely filtered through the edges of the blinds, casting faint lines across the room like prison bars. The housewas still unfamiliar to her, just another thing she was supposed to call "home" now. Granted, she'd only had it for a few hours so far, so that was to be expected. A place to sleep, to eat, to wait. That was all it had.
But not tonight.
Weiss turned toward the rear of the house, passing the laundry alcove and what appeared to be a shallow closet set into the wall. She reached beneath the bottom shelf and pressed two fingers to a hidden biometric panel tucked beneath a false tile in the floor. The unit chirped softly, then hissed as a narrow seam split open across the baseboards.
With a click, the closet's floor receded downward, revealing a hidden staircase lit by faint blue strips along the walls. It was a clever setup, she had to admit, and would easily pass muster if her house was searched.
The League called it her "base of operations." Batman called it a secure fallback node. To Weiss, it would be her only place with true privacy. The one place she could truly be Weiss Schnee and not Kara Schnee, outside of her mind at least.
She descended the stairs in silence save for the thuds of her footsteps, her armor quiet despite its weight. Behind her, she could hear the click of the closet's floor rising back up into position, concealing it's hidden treasure. The temperature shifted as she moved deeper underground, cool and dry, far removed from Houston's clinging warmth and humidity that she could tell was going to be "fun" to adapt to. The stone on the walls and floor gave way to reinforced polymer paneling, all dark gray and unobtrusive.
The basement tunnel opened up into a chamber roughly the size of her mansion's library. Screens lined one side of the room from wall to floor, all displaying a variety of information, ranging from maps, to surveillance feeds of Houston, to even League pings. On the opposite wall, a set oflockers and empty weapon mounts awaited further inspection. A whiteboard in the corner still bore Dinah's quick sketches and half-jokes from their last training review.
And in the center of it all rested her motorcycle on a little rotating plinth.
It was a sleek machine, the chassis being designed for speed, painted an elegant bone white, and boasting a pair of engines that had a small army's worth of horses underneath the hood, all of which could be easily made silent with the flick of a switch. It had a design that belonged more in a sci-fi magazine than in a civilian garage. Atop it's plinth, it was surrounded by tool cabinets, very much like a monarch receiving an audience, but Weiss also noticed a thick power cable running from the wall into a charging port on the vehicle.
Weiss approached it like a soldier approaching her banner.
She touched the seat with gloved fingers, feeling the soft material underneath it. Batman had called it 'Vanguard Unit 12.' Weiss had simply named it Klinge, blade in Atlesian, which was oddly fitting in her mind. She gently lifted her visage style mask, and attached it to her face, obscuring her identity. With her mask now in place, the white faceplate activated with a light pulse, the HUD flickering to life. It displayed everything relevant, her vitals, navigation points, atmospheric data, even emergency League and local emergency services frequencies.
She swung her leg over the seat and keyed the ignition with another touch of her fingers. The bike hummed to life, lights gliding down the frame like water as the machine woke from its slumber.
Heh, Yang would have been jealous.
The hidden exit hatch at the far end of the lair opened with a deep mechanical grind, revealing a tunnel sloping sharply upward. This tunnelsled to a service alley several blocks over, far away from any regular activity.
She revved the engine once, and the vibrations whispered through her bones with a hum more remiscent of a Ursa Major's growl. Weiss formed a small smile beneath her mask at the feeling.
Tonight she would hunt.
Going on patrol, in a city as large as Houston, would be ineffective and accomplishing little. The city layout was rather spread out, with certain areas of Houston actually being their own cities. As such, Weiss' strategy would have to adjust once she got into the hang of things. She couldn't be everywhere at once, that would be setting high expectations and result in burnout and disappointment, instead she would have to target the most dangerous areas of town, and from there see how it goes.
Klinge purred beneath her as she sped through the quieter arteries of the city, the bike's tires gripping asphalt with the surety of a machine designed to move unseen. Streetlights blurred past her on either side as she sped past them. She kept her speed measured, not reckless, but swift enough to cover ground and stay ahead of trouble.
Houston didn't breathe like Atlas did, it didn't wear its security on its sleeves. There were no perimeter walls, no military checkpoints, no sensor towers humming with Dust. It felt exposed, like a city stitched together by convenience and sprawling ambition, not necessity or fear, almost alienesque at times.
Her HUD pinged softly as she approached the edge of her patrol grid, Sector 3, Southeast quadrant of Houston. Rows of aging brick businesses backed by lightless alleys gave way to suburban streets where porch lights glowed amber in the dark. Crime here didn't roar, it whispered, and it waited for you to walk up.
Weiss brought the bike to a stop behind a shuttered electronics repair shop, the faded sign advertising some long past sale for a holiday. This would make for a good spot to stash Klinge for her first patrol, but she'd have to find a new spot next time. If she used the same spot each time, someone would surely notice and exploit it. She dismounted with a practiced sweep of her leg, secured the bike, and leapt upward, using a single white glyph to boost herself onto the rooftop above. From there, she moved on foot towards her destination.
Every step was deliberate and silent as a silk spider. Her boots made little noise against tar paper and gravel, being designed to make very little noise on these exact surfaces. Her suit was lighter than her Atlas battle gear but just as durable while not weighing considerably. The chainmail at her hips gave her the same comforting weight she remembered from training sessions with Winter.
Below her, life went on. A man carried groceries across a parking lot, two teens argued on a porch, a cat darted across an empty road, chasing a plastic bag blowing in the wind. So far, so quiet. None of them had even noticed her, not that anyone was looking up.
Then, a scream rang out in the distance, shrill, and getting her attention easily. At the same time, her HUD pinged her with a notification of a silent alarm activation.
Weiss turned sharply toward the sound, her HUD already highlighting the source, a convenience store half a block down, marked by a broken streetlamp and a half-lit neon sign flickering above the door.
She moved instantly towards the store, now that she knew where it was. A quick glimpse picked out her ideal landing spot, and she did the necessary calculations for a proper landing. As soon as she reached the ideal launching point, she flexed her Aura for the first time on Earth. Two glyphs formed under her, and launched her into the air .
She landed in a low crouch on another roof, this one belonging to a laundromat, and most pertinently, right across from the convenience store in question. Through the front windows at least once she looked past the advertisements plastered on them, she saw the scene unfold. Inside, she could see three figures standing around, a victim and two ruffians. The clerk, a woman who appeared to be trembling like a leaf in the wind, stood behind the register, her hands held up and clearly visible. In front o her, on the other side of the counter, stood a man, clad in jeans and a generic t-shirt, with his face covered in a black cloth mask. In his hands, he held a revolver, which he was wildly gesturing with, likely punctuating his shouted demands. Behind him stood another man, this one in camouflage pants and a button-up flannel shirt. His mask was in camouflage patters as well, but in his hands was a short barreled shotgun. The revolver man turned and, with a final gesture, moved towards the alcohol cooler at the back, while the shotgun wielder stepped up, keeping the weapon pointed steadily at the clerk.
She adjusted her grip on Myrtenaster, then leapt from the rooftop. This was going to require some careful timing on her part.
A single glyph materialized midair beneath her feet, absorbing the fall and flinging her forward like a drawn bowstring. She shot across the pavement and landed silently outside the store. The automatic door groaned open an inch before she overrode it manually, slipping inside like a ghost.
The gunman at the counter turned at the sound, too late. Weiss could see his finger began tightening on the trigger of his weapon, too late, but a reflexive gesture on his part.
Weiss struck him with surgical precision. Myrtenaster's hilt connected with his ribs before he could fire, knocking the wind from his lungs and causing him to drop the weapon as he tried to fill his lungs with air. She spun and pivoted, twisting behind him, her blade sweeping low to knock his legs out from under him. He hit the tile floor hard with a cry and a thud, and he was out of the fight.
The second robber, turning to check on his colleague, panicked at the sight of him on the ground, and a white clad figure standing over him, raised his pistol in a frantic attempt to defend himself. Though given how his hands were shaking, it was an even bet if he'd hit her or the clerk, who was now frozen in shock.
Weiss snapped her fingers, and a sharp white glyph bloomed between them. The robber, now thoroughly panicked, fired. A barrier, solid, and radiant intercepted the shot in midair. The bullet shattered against it like ice on stone, the pieces dropping to the ground in the process. The clerk screamed and ducked behind the counter at the sound of the gunshot.
She moved again, faster this time, slipping around the shield's edge and darting toward him. He tried to retreat, dropping the pistol as he did so, but the store was too narrow, too cluttered with racks and displays. He collided with a garish display of potato chips and spun as he tried to flee, but that cost him. Weiss surged forward and slammed the base of Myrtenaster into his sternum. He crumpled to the ground, wheezing as he did so, falling into unconsciousness.
It was over in six seconds. Truly, she was the pinnacle of being a Huntress, defeating two armed men who had no Aura in less time than it took to drink a cup of coffee.
The cashier stared at her in stunned silence, partially poking her head above the counter at the sight. Weiss knelt beside the two unconscious men, zip-tying their hands behind their backs with cords pulled from her utility pouch. Once they were secure, she called in the robbery, using the local police number.
The woman behind the counter whimpered softly but was unhurt. Admittedly, she was still shaking, but now it was calming a bit.
Weiss stepped around to the side of the counter and crouched beside her. "You're okay now." She said gently, lowering her voice. "It's over. The police are on their way, stay here until they do."
The clerk nodded and with that, Weiss disappeared back into the night.
Weiss returned home before dawn, having stopped a few other robberies, generally gas stations and convenience stores that were open late at night and were easy prey for would be robbers. Her armor came off slowly, piece by piece. She placed each part with care in the bedroom closet, using some of the provided hangers. Myrtenaster returned to its mount above the dresser, awaiting a good polishing when she was awake for it.
She padded barefoot to the office, logged her report to the League onto the provided computer, receiving an automated response confirming its receipt, then she collapsed onto her bed.
Weiss stared out the window at the city's lights glinting in the distance. She'd made a small part of it safe for a day or two. Yet the alien nature of the skyline bugged her, with the most obvious difference glowing a soft gray in the sky.
The moon here was whole.
She missed Ruby, missed Winter, she missed her friends.
The next morning brought a knock at the door, quite a surprise given Weiss hadn't given her address to anyone, and the League would've called ahead first.
Weiss opened it in beige shorts and a black hoodie, wig in place, and her sunglasses perched on her nose to hide her bloodshot eyes. A woman with dark curly hair and a beaming smile stood beside a small boy holding a plate.
"Hi! I'm Lisa, I live two doors down. This is my son, Omar. We wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood." Lisa said with a restrained smile. Weiss could see her eyes held an age to them, apparently she was just as tired as Weiss felt, but still doing her part.
"Muffins." Omar added proudly, holding up his plate, "Banana and chocolate chip."
"I'm Kara." Weiss said, remembering her alias. She gave them a small smile, feeling some small spark of joy at being given a welcoming gift."Thank you."
Lisa smiled warmly now, glad to see Kara wasn't about to be some obnoxious woman. "Anytime. If you need anything, let us know, and if your AC ever breaks, Pete across the street can fix anything."
Weiss nodded and looked down at Omar, that adorable little boy. "Thanks. I'll make sure to eat the best one first."
They left soon after, Omar waving goodbye, with Weiss doing the same as she held the muffins in one hand. Weiss closed and locked the door as soon as they'd gotten far enough away for it not to be rude.
Inside, she set the warm plate on the counter and leaned against the wall, breathing in the soft smell of banana bread.
It was the first time the house smelled like home.
A/N
Weiss' 'civilian' name being Kara is a reference to her VA.