“Well, Alexander?” the masked woman asked impatiently. Her voice was heavily distorted, giving the words a sort of aberrant quality. It was a shame; I had been hoping to be able to see or hear something to allow me to identify her. Then again, there was a reason why both heroes and villains of my day had often chosen to wear masks. It seemed that this Gray Woman ascribed to the same prudence. “What news do you have for me?”

Alex, or Alexander, started a bit at her voice. He shook his head lightly, as if communicating with something or someone that only he could see. From my vantage in the nearby shadows, I could see his back begin to straighten, symbol of the gradual return of his resolve.

“Someone was looking around for your dust last night. We managed to get rid of him, but he was sniffing around close to one of the stockpiles.”

“Someone? Are you telling me that you don’t know who he was?” She cocked her head at that. Her voice, despite the distortion created by the mask, held an upturned lilt. I could almost see an incredulously raised eyebrow through her tone alone, as if questioning the intelligence of her underlings in not retrieving such important information. It really was a bit of an art, properly communicating while wearing a full-faced mask. Without being able to see facial expressions, other methods of conveying tone and expression became all the more important.

The Gray Woman seemed to have practice; Alex easily perceived her budding ire.

He stammered slightly, his resolve beginning to break under the weight of her disapproval. “W-w-we weren’t able to ask. He died when we tried to capture him. But he’s gone, now, right?” He paused for a second, as if gathering himself. “Ma’am, it’s been eleven days since you let me have any dust. I know that I messed up in losing the Stone before, but it hurts so much…” His tone turned sharp, his voice threatening. “I need it.”

The Gray Woman sauntered up to Alex, stepping uncomfortably near him. With a single finger, she lightly traced the patches of mottled gray that marred his skin, slowly running up his neck. The desperate man stiffened with what I assumed to be a combination of anger and fear, if the way his hands clenched and unclenched incessantly was anything to go by.

“You need it, do you?” she purred. “You know what I needed?” Her hand tightened around the man’s throat, and she pulled him closer. Were it not for the excellent hearing provided by my orthopt-self, I would not have been able to hear what came next. “To not lose the Stonemaker’s most important creation to a fucking boy! A boy that you still have not found, I take it?” She shook her head, disgust near radiating from her frame. “If the Stonemaker was not stuck behind the Veil, I would have already killed you for that particular failure.”

Alex let out a stifled choke as he tried to speak past the fingers that clamped around his throat. His fingers scrabbled against hers, attempting to pry away her iron grip to no avail. I was becoming increasingly sure that her powers lent her some degree of increased strength, as she appeared utterly at ease. The next moment confirmed that theory.

She lifted her arm, raising her subordinate off of the ground with a single hand, before throwing him clear across the roof. His back smashed against the roof’s raised boundary with an unsettling crack. The man let out an agonized scream.

I was halfway across the rooftop before I realized what I was doing. More importantly, before I realized that there was nothing that I could do. My current self could do little more than make annoying noises before I was squashed like the insect that I was. My human self was across the city and, even had I been able to make it in time, the Gray Woman had already displayed her ally’s ability to create what I realized were interdimensional portals. Not to mention, it was a fool’s errand to pick a fight with a supervillain that possessed unknown powers.

I could only watch, powerless to stop what was taking place. It rankled.

Alex rolled over, slowly picking himself up. To my relief, the crack had been a section of the roof itself rather than the man’s spine.

He spit a glob of red-tinged spittle, splattering the rooftop, before laughing. It was an unhinged sound; desperate, maniacal, and despairing. It was the sound of a stupid, stupid choice being made.

Once again, I could only watch.

He sprinted in her direction, somehow ignoring what must have been the start of an unimaginably large bruise across his back. Now that our positions had shifted to a degree, I could see his face again. His eyes were lit with a desperate, rabid fervor, unblinking in their intensity. His teeth were bared in a rictus of rage, highlighted against the patches of gray that spread across his cheek and nearly rubbed against his lips.

He threw a powerful uppercut, the entire momentum of his stride and the whole weight of his body behind it. His fist landed against her chin. It shattered.

The fist, that is.

The Gray Woman did not even bother to move.

Alex doubled over, clutching his mangled hand to his chest and letting out a series of curses and sobs. The supervillain lifted him off the ground once more, forcing him to give her his attention.

“That was a very stupid thing to do, Alexander. You know how much I hate stupidity. That’s what got you here in the first place, wasn’t it?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer. I don’t think the Gray Woman minded.

“It’s not a very fun place to be, I know. I’ve tried going through it myself, just to see what it was like. The first days aren’t so bad, beyond missing the power that my dust can give - beyond feeling weak, beyond feeling less. The next few days are a bit harder, as the withdrawal progresses. As your flesh turns a sickly gray. It’s so different from what the dust provides, isn’t it?” She raised her other arm, flourishing as if to draw attention to the smooth gray surface of her skin.

“No, it was no fun. The paranoia, the agitation, the hallucination, the pain - even without having to worry about my timer running out.” She lifted him higher, shaking him slightly as if to accentuate her next point. “So why,” she asked, “do you insist on making things worse? Why do you insist on failing me again?”

She shook her head. “I can’t give you any dust, you know. That would be setting a bad example for the others. You all made a choice when you accepted the power that it gives. Failure is unacceptable. Betrayal is even worse. You have done both.

“Perhaps, once, I might have found more use for you. Not anymore; you made two mistakes today. Aggression, I have a use for. Idiocy, I do not.”

She walked to the roof’s edge, her struggling subordinate held high. He screamed out with a fluctuating array of emotions in his voice. First came rage. Then terror. Then pleading. Rage again. Hate. Fear.

He railed at her, cursing her with every breath. He kicked at her frame and clawed at her arms. He sobbed.

As he hung over the open air, I heard the Gray Woman speak again.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t enjoy this. Yet there are things that must be done, and this is one of those.” Her voice was softer now, lacking the hard edge that had afflicted it for the rest of the meeting.

She let go.

For a brief moment, I heard a scream. For a brief moment, I found myself moving across the open rooftop again. For a brief moment, I forgot myself.

I heard a wet crunch, followed by the screams of terror from unfortunate passerbys.

The Gray Woman paid them no mind, returning towards her silent companion. “Make sure the stockpiles in the northwest are moved somewhere safer. I can’t have weeks of effort lost due to these imbeciles giving away their locations. They’ll just have to deal with the dust being harder to access, for the time being.”

The man nodded, characteristically quiet. He leaned in closer, whispering something in her ear. She turned towards my orthopt-self, staring right at me, before making a hand motion.

I realized that I was still out in the open. I wasn’t sure what to do. Was it better to remain where I was or to slink back into the shadows?

The choice was taken away from me.

A razor sharp beak pierced through my back, a white-hot lance of pain that shoved its way through my midsection. I squirmed in its grasp, wiggling and writhing in my attempts to pull free - to no avail.

“Now, what do we have here?” she asked, quickly crossing the distance between us. She pried my orthopt-self from the raven’s grasp before it flew off into the distance, its duties fulfilled for the meantime. I squirmed as she flexed her fingers minutely, my bloodied abdomen hanging on by mere threads.

“Were you spying on us, little bug? A word of advice: insects don’t try to save people - and you, my confused little friend, are an insect.” She squeezed lightly, separating my upper and lower halves with a quiet crunch. Her flesh was just as it appeared, smooth as stone and just as hard, and my carapace snapped helplessly at its touch.

Her companion walked to her side, placing a single hand upon her shoulder. She nodded to him, answering some silent question.

“Let this be a warning to you, little bug. You will not receive a second one.”

The strange Mark upon the man’s shoulder flared in a powerful corona of light. It spread out and ripped the air behind him. There was a disturbing twist, and the starry black void of the portal reappeared.

The Gray Woman and her companion stepped back into it, the man keeping a grasp on her shoulder all the while. Suddenly, her form wisped away, pulled into the other of the portal.

I, on the other hand, was left hanging in the air. I spread what little remained of my mangled wings, trying to catch the air as best I could. It was hardly effective, the jagged remnants’ uneven lengths overbalancing me and sending me tumbling through the air. Still, it was enough to slow my fall to a small degree.

I hit the ground uncomfortably hard, mangling myself further - though at a certain point, it could hardly get worse than it already had.

I’d have to find the Gray Woman again.

Next time, she wouldn’t see a mere insect.