Darkness fell over the tall buildings of El Puerto, Texas. While, like most cities, it never slept, this one did certainly slow down. With most of the blue and white collar establishments having closed their doors hours ago, the only remaining citizens up and about were the various night shift workers. These numbers paled in comparison to those amassed in the light of day. Illuminated by stars and streetlights, bathed in warm hues of white and yellow, El Puerto almost seemed like a completely different place.

The townspeople commuted to their various after hours employments, guiding their ways with headlights. They represented many walks of life, perhaps not quite as broad in scope yet no less important than those lucky enough to work with the sun. These people were fast food workers, gas station attendants, department store associates, night guards, and whatever various positions which required twilight hours. They were the ones who kept the city alive while remaining mostly unnoticed. In a way, folks like this were the true heart and soul of the entire nation.

It was almost hilarious, in a way, the mass exodus which occurred every single day at around five o'clock. The amount of commuters far outweighed the sum of people who actually lived within the city. Such was the virtue of suburban systems. Gridlock on the freeway met anyone trying desperately to exit with all the others, while someone attempting to enter the city would find traffic rather lax.

Ayda sped down a nondescript street in the industrial district. Everything she'd learned about fighting, about society, and about reality had come to a beautiful head. She'd used every trick in her book, and picked up quite a few fresh additions along the way. Now, just two days after her little meeting with Allen, Ayda was ready to put all of them into action.

For the first time since losing Jackie, the path was clear. Ayda knew exactly what to do, how to proceed. Perhaps more importantly, she knew what impact her actions would have. Society would be rocked by her presence. This mission would change the world. This was her vision. This was her new deal. And it all started on this night with a single step, and a single Triad drug dealer.

Not that the step would be a simple one. Setting up a simple meeting proved much more difficult than Ayda assumed. She chose a contact at random from those culled from the motel, and started a dialogue with him. For safety sake, she hid her number, and that was probably a bad idea. It took a few calls to ascertain his trust. Offering big bucks for a sizable deal got his attention, though. Enough money could persuade any man into taking a chance.

Ayda would have preferred to take care of the entire ordeal in a single day. To shake down Allen and his friends, then follow that up directly with the bust of a drug dealer would have been a massive success; probably her most productive day ever. Her target had different plans, however. The Triad may have been nothing but a collection of scum, but no one could say they weren't thorough. No professional thieves survived without excellent instincts.

But that was all in the past. The hassle would be worth it in the end when this all worked out. Many hours of planning and stress had lead to this, her first act of war against the triad. It would be the shot heard around El Puerto and—if everything went smoothly—no one would ever know who pulled the trigger.

Ayda made sure to park her motorcycle in a car lot a few blocks away from the meeting area. Not many people had her particular make of bike. It wasn't a popular model. The sound and visage of it, as well as the license plate, could give her away. No one could know her true identity. War with the Triad could bring down fire and brimstone upon her loved ones if anybody found out. She could defend herself. Her friends and family weren't so skilled. That was why she wore sunglasses to conceal her identity.

The specific destination had actually been a suggestion by the contact. Ayda decided in a pinch to go along with him. It would build trust between the two, and he probably knew better how to conduct this sort of thing. The less out of the ordinary the scene appeared, the more advantage Ayda possessed. Besides, fighting on his terms sounded rather fun.

She stuck the the shadows, scoping out the situation to the best of her abilities. She'd lingered around the area to be sure of arriving second. It just made more sense that way. Ayda stacked up in an alley across the street, concealing herself in darkness until her quarry arrived.

The dealer, a man called Guang, which was most certainly not his real name, arrived exactly on time, almost down to the precise second. He stood at the mouth of a wide alleyway between two square buildings. To his right was a green dumpster behind a chain link fence. Punctuality must have been important for exchanges like this. When conducting highly illegal business, it was best not to linger. As such, he likely would not stay around very long if Ayda were overly late. To that end, she exited out the rear of her own corridor to end up a block opposite Guang. It would be weird if she emerged from an alley.

Ayda looped back around and came up the street toward him. Despite the metal staff clutched in her right hand, she did her absolute best to appear completely normal. That meant, however, she could not embrace her powers right then. After all, a glowing purple staff would raise immediate red flags even for someone with nothing to hide. It made her feel unprepared, to willingly walk into a fight without her reflexes. She was capable of fighting without them, of course, but to do so felt like tying an arm behind her back. Although, she'd probably come out on top even if that were the case.

Guang turned his head in her direction the moment she began his way. His behavior was the definition of shifty, all sidelong glances and quick nods, as was the norm for anyone trying too hard to act casual. Ayda could feel him giving her an ocular pat down, trying to ascertain if she presented any further threat besides the obvious weapon carried in her fist. She had a feeling that was his true reason for such caution. Likely, no one had ever tried to buy drugs from him while toting a metal bar.

"Are you Guang?" Ayda asked when she was close enough to speak in a moderate tone.

"Yeah, I am," responded the man. "You Sandra?"

"Yeah," confirmed Ayda.

She stood next to him and faced the road. This was something she'd seen on television before. Both parties speak without looking at each other, like they're strangers who just happened to be on the same stretch of sidewalk. Guang offered no such consideration. He turned his whole body to her.

In the few seconds before he spoke again, Ayda returned his previous favor and gave him a quick top to bottom. Guang was dressed nicely in a too-big black suit with a matching plain shirt underneath. He wore no tie, opting instead to keep his first two buttons undone. Even his shoes were fancy. More than a criminal, he looked like a professional business man, or perhaps a gangster from a classic movie. That was probably the point, though. The cops would be searching for anyone who looked like a thug. Wearing a suit effectively exonerated him. It did not, however, prepare him for conflict.

"What's, uh..." Guang trailed off. "What's the stick for?"

"Oh, my staff?" Ayda said, hefting the weapon. "It's for after."

"What? After what?"

"After I do this!"

Without warning, Ayda whapped him across the face. She used this momentum to transfer into her favorite fighting stance, staff held out in front at a slant from shoulder to hip, right foot out in front, elbows and knees slightly bent.

Guang stumbled to catch his balance, holding the spot on his cheek where the weapon made contact. It hadn't been a very powerful strike, just enough to clean his clock a little, but it got Ayda's point across. Guang immediately figured out this wasn't a drug deal, it was a set up. Ayda could see it in his eyes, he was about to run. She had to put a stop to it before her target fled. Not that he wouldn't be a simple catch, the teenager just didn't feel like chasing him.

On her next flurry, Ayda did not hold back. She struck high forehand, then spun the staff around her head, and came back from the same direction. Transitioning into a spin, she swung for a third time from the right. Every attack was accentuated by a blast more than powerful enough to put him on the ground. And yet, at the end of it all, Guang remained standing. He displayed simply impressive speed. The dealer managed to right himself and backpedal away from all three hits. Ayda's staff whizzed harmlessly through the air. Her blasts met nothing but wind. Guang came close to pining himself against the fence, but he was safe.

Ayda stopped to observe him closer. So stunned was the girl, she let her weapon hand fall relaxed at her side. True, those weren't her best attacks, but they still should have been far faster than a normal crank vendor to ever even pray to avoid. Dumb luck. That was the only explanation. Guang was just a thug, same as the triads she'd beaten up before.

"So, you're the one," Guang said with a sickening smile. "You're the chick who beat up Feng and his goons." He paused. "They said you were weird, but I didn't believe them until just now."

"You... you know who I am?" Ayda's shoulders sagged.

"Oh please," Guang scoffed. "Every crook in El Puerto knows who you are. You have a reputation."

Ayda needed a moment to process this. Of course, it made perfect sense. There had been news articles about her, and doubtless the first group of guys she interrogated let spill at least a few details about their encounter. Someone would connect the dots eventually. It was inevitable. She just didn't expect it to happen so quickly. Something else about the situation bothered her, though.

"So, you know who I am, and you know what I can do, but you're still here," she said. "I think most people would've run by now."

"Are you kidding?" Guang walked forward a few feet, away from the fence. "Do you have the slightest idea how much the boss will pay me for bringing you in? That's a risk worth taking."

"You're actually gonna fight me?" Ayda couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Not unless you want to just give up and come quietly," Guang quipped. At least they matched wits, if nothing else. He put up his dukes.

"Alright. It's your funeral." Ayda resumed her own readied stance. She expected to square off with him for a moment, but that would not be the case. He opened the bout immediately.

Guang charged full force at her, fist cocked back for what was sure to be a vicious strike. Such telegraphing, however, wouldn't even work on a child. Ayda quarter turned. His strike whiffed and he ended up a step behind her. Ayda twirled her staff and hit him laterally across the back. A modest blast sent him tumbling forward. Guang managed to recover, though. He tucked into a roll and landed in a kneeling position.

Ayda pushed her advantage while he was still down. She closed in and brought her staff straight down. Guang straightened and narrowly avoided the first strike. The ensuing blast cracked the concrete, but not a human skull like intended. Ayda spun completely around and came down again. Guang stepped out from under this one as well.

Now Ayda was the one in a kneeling position, and Guang had all the momentum. He closed in and aimed an overhand punch at the back of her head. Ayda shuffled back while still on her haunches. With danger successfully avoided, she rose, and as she did, struck upward with the back end of the staff. Her ascension lent power to the strike, but it was short ranged and slow. Guang sidestepped out of the way. As the weapon sailed past his face, he leveled a left hook at the teenager. Ayda saw the strike coming, of course, but her arms were far too out of position to block. She couldn't step far enough back to get out of the way. His fist made contact right behind her ear with a hollow sound.

Ayda stepped to the left and then back to get out of his striking range. He hit her. He actually managed to hit her. Through all her experience and overwhelming speed of reaction, this ordinary man got in a good strike. Unbelievable. Simply preposterous. She was better than him in every conceivable way. Younger, stronger, faster, and smarter, there was no reason for her to take a hit. And yet, the throbbing on the side of her head proved otherwise. Sheer dumb luck. That was the only explanation.

"Not quite as good as you thought, huh?" Taunted the man.

"Why don't you find out?" Ayda fired back, an admittedly weak rebuttal.

His initial success filled Guang with confidence. He closed the distance and attempted a side push kick. Ayda backed out of the way. Guang transitioned immediately to a spinning, inside crescent kick. Ayda knelt below it and swept his ankles with a blast. His feet slipped out from underneath him, resulting in a backwards fall. Guang smacked his spine against the concrete. Ayda stabbed down at him with the back end of her staff. He just barely rolled out of the way. The weapon dug into the ground. Ayda wrestled with it, wriggling the thing back and forth to dislodge it. This gave Guang just enough time to get back on his feet.

He had no time to rest, though. The man was too close, well past Ayda's optimal striking range. She chocked up on her staff and threw out a wide lateral swing. Guang ducked underneath. From his downward position, he lashed out with a low kick at her front-most knee. Ayda attempted to step back, but for all her lightning fast reflexes, her body could only move so fast. The only thing she accomplished was to line herself up perfectly with his toe.

He made contact. The kick was rather weak, but still carried just enough force to buckle Ayda's affected knee. It bent sideways. She winced in pain at not the blow itself, but the hyperextension it caused. She took a hobbled step to the left before bearing down on the hurt leg with a grit of her teeth.

The look Guang wore on his face was absolutely despicable. He seemed to derive some twisted pleasure from this. Whether it came from hitting an opponent for the second time, or from beating up a woman, Ayda couldn't be certain. However, she chose to believe the latter. It made fighting him much easier to justify. She snarled at him like a cornered beast. This man had progressed far beyond simply getting on her nerves. Ayda tried not to hate her opponents, but there were rare exceptions.

This entire time, she'd been somewhat underestimating him. A deadly mistake. It was time to go on the offensive. She stepped forward a swung laterally. A spin, and a second strike from the same direction, both with blasts. Guang predictably dodged both. He retaliated with a swift hook kick. Ayda widened her grip and blocked with her staff. She twisted the weapon upward and hit his inner thigh right on the femoral artery, a burst for emphasis.

These kinds of arterial strikes hurt more than most people realized, even without Ayda's blast which may have been enough to cause internal bleeding. Guang fell to one knee. This was her chance to end it. Ayda twirled her staff behind her back and brought it around for an attack both terrible and stylish. Solid metal and a good explosion smashed into Guang's temple. The Triad lifted into the air for a moment before crashing down on his side. He did not move after landing. His chest, though, continued to rise and fall with the rhythmic repetitions of normal breathing. Not dead, but unconscious—just how Ayda wanted.

Ayda relaxed. She held her staff at her side, put her feet in a more comfortable configuration. It was over and done. She sighed and slowly ran fingers through her hair. That had been about ten times more difficult than she'd expected. If all Triad drug dealers possessed that level of skill, then that would explain why they'd been so successful in the criminal trade. More caution would be required moving forward.

But that was a problem for future Ayda to solve. Her present self had one more thing to do. She stepped out of the alley and dug out her cellular device, three swift keystrokes before pressing it against her ear. It still kind of hurt from where she got punched.

"911, what is your emergency?" Said the operator, a woman with a nasally voice.

"Um, yeah, hi," Ayda began. "I'm not sure if this is the right number to call, but I need to report a drug deal in progress."

"Where is the deal taking place?" The woman prodded further.

"It's an alley between Wornick and Tenth, in the industrial district." As Ayda spoke, she walked back into the alley toward the incapacitated countenance of Guang.

"Hold on, I'll transfer you to the right precinct."

"That'd be great, thanks."

Again, Ayda reached into her pocket. This time, she produced a white plastic zip tie. She grabbed Guang by the forearm and dragged him over to the fence. The girl threaded her new tool through the chain links and around his wrist. A quick pull attached him to it. With the criminal restrained, her job was done. Ayda exited the alley and started on the walk back to her motorcycle. The only thing to do now was let the cops take over. All tied up, Guang wouldn't be going anywhere until they arrived.

…

The very next day. The sun was just beginning its westward wax across the sky. Soon twilight would approach and send the city into a peaceful state of slumber. It was almost disturbing how calm the day seemed. People went about their business without a care in the world. Nothing changed, almost as if nothing mattered. These people were blissfully unaware of the war which blazed right under their noses.

Of course, Ayda expected all of this. Nothing she ever conceivably did had the slightest chance of changing an entire population over night. It would take an incalculable passage of time to see any palpable effect. She knew this, and yet it still was weird, like her after-hours deeds were still sinking in. That, however, was the past now, even though it just happened. Ayda had more important things to do than worry about petty recognition.

To that end, she found herself sitting in a break room at the Belmont International research and development labs, a place she had become very familiar with ever since emigrating to America. Dressed in the black tank top and capri yoga pants she usually wore whenever conducting business in this particular building, she teetered back in a metal folding chair. It balanced precariously on its two back legs while she rested her ankles on the long pressboard table.

She was the only one in the room. There were several communal areas for employees to rest during the day, but this particular domicile suited her needs better than any. Farthest away from both the offices and testing chamber, it saw very little foot traffic. The workers didn't have much time for leisure to begin with. Few wanted to waste any second of it walking to a break room. This relative isolation meant Ayda could most assuredly enjoy a moment of peace and quiet.

Well, relative quiet, anyway. A small CRT television hung in the far left corner from the door. Ayda had flipped it to the local news, a program she normally did not indulge in. Most of the important things that happened in and around El Puerto she learned on the internet just moments after they happened. Why bother watching these same stories on the news possibly several hours after the fact? Curiosity drove her on this occasion.

A pale, dark haired woman droned on about some menial story Ayda cared nothing for. It was the end of a segment. The one she wanted to see was about to start. The camera cut to a different angle of the same person. She slowly turned her head to spike the lens.

"And now, for Crime Watch," she said in an ominous tone. After a beat, a garish cinematic played. Tones of red and blue meshed in the background while white letters danced over top. They smashed together to form the name of the segment. It was, quite possibly, the most outdated graphic in all of television. It, thankfully, was brief. The station cut back to the anchor.

"Our top story today: An anonymous tip led to the apprehension of wanted Chinese Triad drug dealer Guang Fung Wa." A picture of him appeared to the presenter's left. "He was found handcuffed to a chainlink fence in the industrial district, severely wounded. After questioning, Guang revealed he had been attacked by a teenage girl with strange abilities. He is the latest in a string of Triad members to make such a claim, with the most notable being Sun Xin, who turned himself in to law enforcement with a similar claim. Local police admit there may be a vigilante on the loose, but are passing off any supernatural allegations as nothing more than urban legend."

"Severely wounded my brown ass," Ayda jeered at the screen. "He's fine." Still, though. She got the top story. It was an honor. And, the police were covering up her deeds, which saved her the trouble of doing so.

"Who's fine?" A familiar voice said from outside the open break room door.

Ayda turned just in time to see Elliot enter. She smiled instantly at his presence. While this was the second time that day the two had met, they hadn't seen each other for weeks prior. Ayda failed to realize just how much she missed her friend. So taken aback was she at his sudden appearance, she didn't respond to his question right away.

"Another Triad guy got beat up last night," she explained. "The news is trying to pass him off as just an innocent victim of some crime."

"You don't think he is?" Asked Elliot just before he pulled up a chair across from her.

"A victim of a crime, sure, but he's certainly not innocent," Ayda clarified. "These thugs play with fire every day of their lives. We shouldn't be surprised when they get burned." She forwent to mention who had been the fire in this case.

"That may be true," Elliot agreed with a cock of his head. This clearly wasn't what he'd come to talk about. "What are you still doing here, anyway?" He changed the subject. "The test ended over an hour ago."

"I know, I just didn't feel like going home yet," said Ayda, a completely true statement. "I'll get around to it, don't worry."

"Yeah. I was pretty surprised when you said you wanted to start testing again. I never thought you'd actually volunteer for it."

"It is kind a weird, isn't it?" Ayda said. "I don't know, I was just so restless sitting at home all day. I wanted to start doing things again, you know?" Another factual assertion, although this day hadn't been the real start of her return to action. "I'm going back to school tomorrow," she added as an afterthought.

"That's good." Elliot suddenly wore a grim face. "How are you doing, really?" His voice was soft and solemn. He leaned in closer.

"Better," Ayda responded after a moment. "I just," she sighed, "I needed time. I needed to process everything. But I think I've had enough time. Jackie wouldn't want me to sit around wasting away, so I'm not going to."

"I'm glad to hear it." Elliot smiled and leaned back in his chair. "We didn't really talk much for a while, so I was worried about you."

"Aw, how sweet," Ayda quipped, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Shut up, you know what I mean." Elliot dismissed her joke. "I'm glad to see you're starting to bounce back."

"So am I," she agreed. There was a short pause, only long enough for Ayda to get a new idea. "Hey, are you on your lunch break?"

"Not necessarily, but I could be. Why?"

"Alright, then, come on." Ayda rose and walked around to the head of the table closest to the door. Elliot, however, remained seated.

"Where are we going?" He said with drawn out syllables and narrow eyes.

"I am taking you out to lunch," Ayda said with a hint of satisfaction. "Think of it as an apology for going radio silent."

"Ayda, you don't have to do that," Elliot said with soft eyes.

"Yes, I do," she insisted. "Just come on. You're not getting out of this one, Howard." The use of his middle name let him know she was serious.

Elliot sighed. "Fine, fine." He stood and began toward her. "Where are we going?"

"Wherever you want." Ayda fell in behind him and they exited the room. "Nothing spicy, though. I'm not really in the mood."

"Well, at least that narrows things down," Elliot shrugged.

"Oh, and you're driving. My bike isn't really made for two people."

"It's funny you think I would ever get on that thing."

Ayda jogged a few steps to walk beside him down the hall. This was the start of what she hoped would be many more good days. Punching a gangster in the face always made for a fun time, but after about two weeks of doing that nonstop, what she really needed was good food with a good friend. Such things were good for the soul.