"I get that you're upset - "

"Upset? Isto, the longer that Sorli is in custody the sooner he'll be broken by that damn interrogator. When she breaks his mind open she'll see everything we've done," the Supplier shouted as she burst through the door of the lawyer's apartment.

"I know that - "

"And when that happens, how far we've come, everything that's been done... gone. Up in smoke."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. It's what's happened every. single. time. Isto. Every time. Every time we try to put together this grand plan to put things back like they were, this fucking happens - "

"That's enough, Mallika," Isto barked.

The Supplier's hunched pacing stopped. She stood, fully upright, and glowered at the lawyer.

"Do not call me that, Isto Raita, we had a - "

"We're not talking about that right now. You seem to have forgotten why we're doing this. Why after creators know how many attempts we're doing this again."

"You know that's not - "

"No, I don't. You're getting reckless, putting yourself out in the open, not using your projections, gearing up like you're going to go fight this war yourself?"

The Supplier scuffed a hoof against the linoleum, leaving a sharp gouge behind it.

"You need to remember why we swore that we wouldn't act ourselves, why we would use a proxy, why we can't take direct action."

"I do remember, Isto, I was there remember?"

Mallika Cross - Hero Name: Red Magus - The Arcane Hero

"Impressive, I haven't seen a recruit, fresh from exams, assigned to the Global Protectorate in quite some time," The Coordinating Officer said after dropping the file back onto the table.

"Too bad they got her designation wrong, Red Magus... more like Red Bangus... am I right?" one of the "veteran" heroes, Presto, jabbed.

"Stow it!" The CO barked.

Mallika held up a hand, "I can take care of this, thank you Officer."

Presto shrugged, "What are you gonna do about it, toots?"

"Toots?" Mallika chuckled, "Toots? My name is Mallika Cross, Hero Designation 'Red Magus - The Arcane Hero.' You are Henry Fitz, Hero Designation - Presto - The Hat Trick Hero, now tell me," she said, holding her right hand out to snap the man's limbs tight against his body and hold him off the floor of the facility by six and a half feet, "who here should be calling who toots?"

"Presto was a fool and a fake, he deserved it," The Supplier rationalized.

"You're not wrong Mal, but, that was your first day ," Isto said.

"You know what they say about first impressions," she countered.

"And look where that's gotten you, dismissed out of hand by one of the few that Sorli trusts."

"And what about you Isto, Catherine Knight rejected you just as easily."

"I'm not the one throwing a fit about it."

"And why aren't you, Isto, hm? You've invested a lot of time in that boy, you were proud of him the last time I saw you two together. Why don't you care that they won't help us help him?" The Supplier stalked toward Isto with the question.

"Because Psycher isn't going to be able to break the boy, Mallika," Isto answered confidently.

"And how do you know that?"

Isto folded his arms over his chest and smirked, "Maybe if you'd hung around to talk with him, you would know."

"Know what Isto?"

"He's been visited Mal, by two of the old ones."

Sorli's body burned from the inside, fire pumped through his veins, billowing smoke swelled in his muscles.

"Get out of my head!" he bellowed.

Sorli cracked his forehead across the bridge of Psycher's nose. She tumbled off of him, clutching at her face and groaning.

Sorli grunted with effort as he wrestled against his frozen restraints. Deep cracks formed in the ice, threatening to break apart before he felt the loosened chunks pressing against his body.

"What the?"

Sorli looked up. Psycher was levitating six inches off the ground. There was an indigo shimmer outlining her, the whites, irises, and pupils of her eyes were gone, replaced with a violently glowing violet, and the immaculate bun atop her head unfurled into a floating mass of hair, undulating on repeat as she held her hands out. The table, chairs, and torn up chunks of the concrete wall and floors slammed against him and constricted.

Sorli uttered his new catch phrase, "Shit"

"You should have told me!" The Supplier shrieked.

Isto pulled himself out of the wall, right next to where he'd planted the house sized construct not too long ago, and brushed himself off.

"Mal, I - "

The Supplier shouted as she unleashed another arcane bolt at Isto's chest. He outstretched his hand and caught it in his palm before crushing it against his viridian aura.

"We had a deal Isto! You... you - "

Isto vanished from his spot and reappeared directly in front of the Supplier.

"Had every intention of following through. You kept yourself too far from him, Mallika."

The Supplier slammed her fists against Isto's chests, met with a hollow pong as she impacted the protection of his aura.

"Why didn't you..."

Isto caught her wrists and held.

"That's enough, Mal."

The Supplier grit her teeth and leveled a glassy glare at Isto. He pushed her wrists into her chest and wrapped his arms around her shuddering shoulders.

"That's enough."

"It's simple, Ms. Cross, you accept what must be a new record for internal transfers, or the promotion to the Champion bracket that you've been offered a dozen times. Either way, as long as you pursue either option and stay ten miles from my client, Malcom Fitzz aka "Presto" you won't find yourself suspended without pay... again," Isto Raita, Assistant Internal Mediator of the GSO, said.

"Why should I do either of those things? And why should I listen to a pencil pushing fop in a cheap suit?" Mallika Cross challenged.

Isto ground his teeth and surveyed the room. The red lights on the cameras winked off and he knew no one was on the other side of the one way glass. No one ever was when it came to Red Magus.

"Because, Ms. Cross, your career as a superhero is at stake," the words made him sick to his stomach.

"My career? You think I do this for the paycheck?"

Isto's arched eyebrow grazed his hairline. He cleared his throat and steadied his face.

"Then, Ms. Cross, may I ask why you do this work?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and slumped back into her chair, "Why does that matter? Just another bubble for you to fill in on your questionnaire?"

"Do you see a questionnaire anywhere?"

"The last guy had - "

"The last guy wasn't me, Ms. Cross. Now answer the question, why do you choose to be a hero?" Isto pushed his briefcase and notepad aside, leaning his elbows onto the table, and making eye contact with the devil-woman seated across from him.

Her cheeks flushed for a moment before she answered.

"This world needs heroes, real heroes. Not walking advertisements, not posterboys, not models toting super weapons. Heroes."

Isto struggled to keep the excitement from showing on his face.

"And what makes someone a hero?"

"Someone who does the right thing, who sacrifices, who would gladly give their life to save the life of their worst enemy."

"And are you a hero, Ms. Cross?"

Her eyes shifted, a steeled determination manifesting in her expression. "Someday, I will be."

Sorli screamed.

"Isn't that so much better, Mr. Grimmarson?" Psycher demanded.

If it weren't for the dagger-sized shards of glass pressing into the exposed bits of skin, if it weren't for the segmented coccoon of furniture, concrete, ice, and psychic energy holding him immobile, if it weren't for the fatigue of Remedy's booster... maybe he could have done something other than scream.

"More, Mr. Grimmarson. Give. Me. More."

Glass dug into his forearms, his chest, his legs, all at random and alternating intervals. Sorli couldn't predict where the pain would come from first, so he did the only thing he could.

Sorli Screamed.

On the heels of Mallika Cross' answer came a deafening boom, rocking the facility and knocking it out of alignment with its atmospheric anchor.

"Uh oh," Mallika muttered.

"Uh oh?" Isto parroted.

Alarm bells blared across the station.

"Uh oh."

The station listed and went dark.

"JUST AS I HAVE PLUNGED YOU INTO DARKNESS, SO SHALL YOU SINK THE WORLD!" a voice echoed and boomed through the shadows.

"Shayde, that bastard..." Mal growled, "you okay pencil pusher?"

"Just fine Ms. Cross, really doing great," Isto answered, "on a scale of one to ten, how bad is this?"

"Seven..." she answered.

"That's not so - "

"teen," she finished.

"Well... shit."

As the station continued to plummet through the atmosphere, Mallika thumbed the communicator in her ear, "This is Red Magus, who's on station?"

A chorus or static and answers that only served to furrow her brow sounded in the earpiece.

"Alright, pencil pusher, there are escape pods in the East Wing. The Gravity engines should hold for long enough for you to get there, I can buy you some time."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Buy you time?"

"Shayde is a Champion level threat that has kept the GSO from maintaining any one of these facilities for more than a season. I know you've been solicited to advance to the Champion bracket, but do you really think you can best him?"

"No, I don't."

"Then why?"

"Because if I don't do something no one else will. The station will crash into the heart of the Western Federation without anyone putting up a fight because the 'heroes' that are here can't function in low atmosphere, not like I can."

"You'll die," Isto observed.

"Then I'll die a hero, won't I?"

"Martyring yourself doesn't make you a Hero, Ms. Cross."

"Then what do I do?" she shouted in frustration.

"Let me help you."

"You?"

"Me."

"How?"

"You engage with Shayde and stay alive, I'll be right out."

"Whatever you say pencil pusher."

"Is that all you've got? Red Magus? I was expecting... more..." Shayde challenged.

Every muscle burned under her skin. The effort to maintain the magic shield, her own little slice of atmosphere, up was starting to take a toll on her, same with the beating she'd been taking for the last several minutes.

"What? How?" Shayde boomed, looking past her at the, now stabilized, GSO station.

A streak of emerald energy slammed against the villain's shrouded form and caused him to howl in agony.

Mallika looked back toward the station, but stopped short when she saw Isto hovering next to her, bathed in viridian light.

"How... how are you...?"

Isto loosened his tie and removed his blazer, letting the cheap garment fall. With a shout of effort, his aura expanded and shifted, taking a solid shape.

"Oh Ms. Cross," the soft words echoed from both his mouth and the bladed maw of his aura, "how doesn't apply to Dragons. We do what we want."