=== Kari ===

I hadn't gone on patrol for a few days. I couldn't. I kept thinking about how I was using my power. How the police used theirs. About the first bad guy I had taken down. He had claimed that people made him into that. And instead of trying to help him, I had attacked him. It was heavy. Heavier than anything I had ever lifted. And that includes a bus. So, instead, I sat in my room, staring at the costume my parents had made. Thinking about how I was complicit in these structures of power. I knew no system was perfect and there would always be bad actors in it, but when I looked at it, that's not what had happened.

The police had seen a black man with powers and decided he was a criminal, despite obvious evidence to the contrary. And they had a huge problem with metas in general. People were going to develop powers. That wasn't going away. And even if they didn't develop them naturally, like I did. Well, kind of. I had alien DNA inserted into me with Super CRISPR. But even if it wasn't their physical bodies, people like Bion and Esvanir, guys who were just good with technology, would come out of the woodwork and do it. You can't put superpowers back in the bottle. The Genie's out. And he's singing. Not only that, but these structures protect legitimate criminals, too. People like Marcelli who do illegal things, but because they have money, they get away with it. They're untouchable. It was one thing to be like Esvanir and just be really hard to catch, even for someone like me. It was a different thing entirely for everyone to know you're a criminal and for no one to be able to do anything about it.

But I had saved people. I had rescued people from fires. I had stopped a volcano from exploding. I had fought monsters. People were alive today because I stepped in. But that's also true of some police. This issue is too big. I don't know what to do about it. I took my eyes off of my costume and looked down at my phone. My dad came into the room, knocking lightly.

“Sweetie? Are you okay?” He asked, tentatively. I smiled softly at him.

“Yeah, dad. What's up?”

“You haven't left the compound in a few days. People are . . . People are wondering where Smash Gal is. And I'm wondering . . . Honey, did something happen?” I told him about what had happened with the bank robbery. He sat on the edge of my bed and nodded along. “Well, it sounds like you did the right thing. Maybe those . . . Maybe those cops were just some bad apples, you know?”

“I hear that one a lot. I was looking it up in my hiatus. And for some reason, everyone always forgets the second half of that saying.”

“What?”

“A few bad apples spoil the bunch. Even in that one situation, none of the other cops stopped the two from wrongly arresting the guy. They all just stood there and said nothing. A good cop isn't that good if he can't stand up to a bad cop.”

Mom burst through the door, her phone in her hand. “Steve, Kari . . . They're back!”

“Whose back?” Both my dad and I said at the same time. She was shaking and just barely managed to hand over her phone. My father took it and we both leaned over it. There was a live-stream of some weird-looking people in strange garb attacking the city. They were flying forward through the air and landing. They landed on tanks and crushed them. Nothing anyone was doing seemed to phase them.

Both mom and dad looked at me nervously. Then at each other.

“Grignau.”

=== Curt ===

I took Cindi to the only person I know who might be able to help. The smartest person I know. I took her to Des. The best thing about being able to teleport is that it doesn't leave a lot of room to talk. Just a quick snap and we're there. Waiting for a doctor, though. Especially when we didn't have an appointment. That leaves plenty of time to talk. It was after hours, but Des' clinic was just below their apartment and they always worked late. They were patching up some kid who had gotten shot. A prospective gang member, judging by the bandanna around the kid's neck. Des wouldn't see us until they were sure that the kid was going to be okay. More than okay. They'd send him home with a cookie and tell them to not get shot again. Funny. That's always the same advice she gives me. I don't get cookies anymore, though. I tried not to look at Cindi. Every time I did, I felt a pressure build up in my chest. I'd unconsciously clench my fists and my jaw. She'd flinch when she looked into my eyes. I was furious. She had been tortured for God only knows how long, and I was furious at her for giving me up. It wasn't fair. And I knew it wasn't fair. But I couldn't help it.

“Curt?” She asked tentatively.

“What?” I said coldly. Better cold, than hot, I guess. At least for now. She flinched even still. She wasn't used to this side of me. I wasn't used to this side of me. Not anymore. She gathered herself.

“Curt, I know you're mad, but I didn't want to get you hurt. I didn't want to . . .”

“Miss Drei?” Des called out, cutting our conversation short. Thank God. Cindi stood and walked over to the person. “You coming, Curt?”

I thought about it for a moment. “I . . . I don't know. I'll . . . I'll be there in a few minutes. I need to think.”

Cindi looked heartbroken. Des raised an eyebrow at me. I wasn't acting like myself, apparently. How could I? I now belonged to someone else. And all over a stupid cat statue and a fucking program. It was a shortcut. I knew I shouldn't have taken it. I knew it was a bad idea. But I let her talk me into it. I can't believe it. What is Marcelli going to have me do? What will he use me for? The lights were apparently set to turn off if there wasn't enough movement after a while and when my eyes focused, I noticed that I was sitting in the dark. I frowned and stood up. The cursed lights came back on. I sighed and walked to the back room.

“I don't know what I'm going to do, Doc.” Cindi's voice carried out into the hall.

“What do you mean?” Des asked, impassively.

“I . . . I have never seen Curt like this. I . . . I think he hates me.”

“You did sell him out to a crime lord to save your own skin.”

“I had to. He was tor-”

“He was torturing you. I get that. And I sympathize to the extent that the law requires me to. But you also know that Curt hates rich people. He hates people that abuse their power. And now he has to work for one for who knows how long.”

“I do know that. It's one of the things I love about him. And normally he's always so . . . calm and collected. He's seldom impulsive. Always thinking his way through problems instead of just acting. He's everything that I'm not.”

“That's not true,” Des said wryly.

“What do you mean?”

“We're both thieves,” I said, pushing open the door.

“I was going to say 'criminals'. People who think they're above the law.”

“We are,” I said with a smile, meeting Cindi's eyes. She smiled back hesitantly. “If people like Marcelli are above the law, then surely a nudist with superpowers and some jerk with major problems with authority and the ability to subvert it also are. Isn't that right, Cher?”

She nodded. Des shook their head. “You're both ridiculous. And she's in serious trouble, Curt.”

“Should you be telling me that? Doctor-Patient Confidentiality and all?”

“Oh, now you want to have a conversation about ethics?” Des asked, rolling their eyes so hard, I'm surprised that they didn't pop out and roll across the floor. They then looked at Cindi. “You two morons are basically married, right? Do you mind if I say what's going on in front of your less attractive half?”

Cindi smirked and met my eyes again, shaking her head. “Good. Your girlfriend has a bomb inside of her. It looks like it's attached to . . . a lot of stuff that she needs.”

“Can she phase it out?”

“No, it looks like it's somehow tied to her body in such a way that it goes with her when she does that.”

“Okay. Surgery? Can we remove it?”

“Oh fuck that. I am not a surgeon,” Des said, panic building in their voice. “Besides, I think it has some fail-safes. I'm hardly a bomb tech, but I can't imagine you wouldn't install fail-safes into a bomb if your goal is to blackmail someone into committing a crime.”

“Fuck!” I screamed and slammed my hand into the door frame. The metal door frame. The other two jumped in fear and backed away. And that really hurt. And so did my hand. I think I broke my pinky. I shook my hand in frustration. With both of my hands shaking in rage, I took a few deep breaths and tried to regain what semblance of control I could have. “Okay. So that won't work. Where is the bomb?”

Des stared at me for a long while, considering. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking that if I don't get the bomb out of the person I lo . . . The person who helps me out on jobs, that I'll never get out from under Marcelli's thumb and I'd lose someone incredibly important to me-y- to my operations.”

Cindi was sitting there with some weird combination of pride, flattery, and fear painted on her face. Des just continued to stare at me, considering. Their face was unreadable in that way that only a lifetime of trauma can teach you how to really do. They clicked their tongue and shook their head before bringing up an x-ray. The bomb was attached to her spine. Apparently just below the ribs. It wasn't a large explosive. It wouldn't be enough to even give Michael Bay a chubby. But it was more than enough to kill someone.

I stared at the image for a long time, trying to think of all of the possibilities, eliminating most of them even before I finished the thought. There were three, as I saw it. One: We could work with Marcelli until he let us go. It was the path of least resistance. We might end up trapped in his employ for the rest of our lives, but they might be long, relatively happy lives, considering. Two: We could find the bomb maker and force him to take the damn thing out. But I wouldn't even know how to start that. And there was the problem that Marcelli, if he suspected we were working against him, could just kill her at any time. And most likely, he kept eyes on whoever he hired to do such work for that exact possibility. Three: I could teleport the bomb off. I couldn't do it now. I didn't even have a rig. Even if I did it with my previous rig, the best possibility is that Cindi ended up a cripple for the rest of her life. But I was already looking to upgrade. This would just take a couple of extra pieces and a few more tests . . . It's still dangerous as hell.

“Fuck.”

=== Kari ===

The Grignau were back. I had seen footage of them before, but this was different. High Definition really made a difference. They were humanoid. Much taller than humans. About seven or eight feet tall on average. They were strong and as thick as the average redwood. And everything around them was like it was made of cardboard. They threw cars and tanks. Some did it with their minds. Some did it with their four-fingered hands. The military had managed to shoot down one of them. It took seven shots from a special anti-meta tank that was quickly destroyed afterwards. There were hundreds of them. They could fly and when they landed, the streets beneath them crumpled.

“I . . . I have to go,” I said softly, before rushing off to the wall to grab my costume.

“Kari! NO!” Mom called out.

“Kari, please, don't!” My father cried.

“I have to!” I screamed, turning back to them. “I can't just . . .”

They both looked heartbroken. They were scared. Tears were streaming down the faces of the two people who mattered most to me in the world. And that was that. If I didn't stop this threat, I might lose them. I might lose Chuck or Curt or Jenny. I wouldn't have the time to have three days of existential crisis over the police if there were no police left. In a spin, I was in my costume, my bathrobe and underwear not yet landing on the floor before I was out of the building. I flew.

I flew faster than I ever had before. I was in the city in seconds. It was chaos. There were fires all over the city, people screaming, sirens crying out in protest. I rushed down to the ground. The part of the street I landed in was empty of people. I could hear them still. They were around, but they were hiding. Any sensible person would hide. But, as Curt has always reminded me, I've always had more luck than sense.

I charged forward and got to a barricade. I could see some Grignau down the street, making their way towards me. They were slow and lumbering until they were attacking someone. Then my eyes struggled to keep up. I can't imagine what it was like for other people. People who couldn't see like I could. It must have been like fighting Esvanir. One moment they're far away and you're safe. In the next, you're already dead. I clenched my fist and flew forward. I created a small space of air around me to not break all the glass in the surrounding buildings because I was definitely flying at a supersonic speed. I slammed my fist into one of them and it took a step back but caught itself. It stood a little straighter. It then lifted its arm and batted me away. I went flying into the nearest building. Breaking a lot of glass. “Well, that's ironic.”

So, they could take the same amount of force I used against that lizard guy. Can I even hurt these things? My powers come from their DNA. If anything, I'm diluting their strength. I can't think like that right now. There's only one thing to do. I have to stop them. I pushed myself out of the pile of rubble created by my crash and blasted out of the building. You guys can take it. I know that now. I slammed my fist into the one that had batted me away. At least I think it was the same thing. It was a little racist, but they did all look the same. A weird grayish blue. Kind of spiny. Black, featureless eyes. Beaks instead of teeth.

My punch sent out a shockwave which I dissipated by creating a small forcefield around it. The thing went flying and stumbled but eventually caught itself. Before it had even seemed to stand again, it was charging for me. I braced myself and backhanded it with another crushing blow. It crashed down again and another one struck me from behind. I slammed down into the ground, asphalt and concrete breaking under me. Ow . . . I . . . I felt that. Jesus. What am I going to do?

I launched myself out of the crater and uppercutted the one who had just attacked me, only to be grabbed by the one who I had sent flying. It gripped me in two of its four hands and started to crush me. So, this is what a soda can feels like. Fuck! I felt my bones pop and crack. I tried to push against it. But the Grignau were just so much stronger than I was. I was going to die here. I started breathing quickly as darkness overtook me. Tears ran down my face. My shoulder popped out of place and I felt my leg trying not to crack in half. After everything . . . This is how it was going to end. At the edge of my vision, there was a tunnel of light.

=== Curt ===

While Cindi was getting dressed, I happened to check my phone. Apparently, the city had become a war-zone. People were fighting the Grignau. And they were losing. Poor communities were hit the hardest because they always were. The police and military were focusing most of their effort on protecting the well-off. There was a token effort here and there. Unfortunately, I couldn't help them. Not like this. But it did create an opportunity. And if I hurried, I might be able to help someone.

“Cher. Put on your game face. We're . . .” My eyes tracked over to Des. “Going to do an activity.”

Cindi smiled at me and walked over, wrapping her arms around my neck. I gripped her hand. I was still angry. But I also knew that my anger wasn't going to solve anything. And I was only angry because I cared about her. “What did you have in mind, Essy?”

I looked to Des and shook my head. “Not here. We don't wan-”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” Des yelled, throwing up their hands. “You're a criminal. She's a criminal. I'm a criminal because I patch you idiots up. Just talk here. I don't care.”

I sighed and shook my head. “We're going to hit Wan En. Once we have a few pieces from there, we're going to hit up EnGin.”

“Again?” Des asked. “Didn't you just hit those two places?”

“Yeah. I don't know that that's a good idea, love,” Cindi said. She caught my slip-up. Fuuuuuuuuuck. I am never going to live this down.

“Yeah, well, from Wan En, I took something for a particular pain-in-the-ass doctor, as a means of trying to mitigate some of my apparent debt,” I began. “And from EnGin, I took a piece for a new rig, but there are a few more pieces that I can use to create shortcuts from and improve it. After we get that stuff, we can move on to a bigger target.”

“You want to hit three places . . . in the same night?” Cindi asked, incredulously. “You? Who are you and what have you done with Curt?”

“Ordinarily I wouldn't move this fast, but we have two big reasons to do so.”

“Oh?”

“Well, one, if we're going to make a move against Marcelli, we have to do it in the next week or so. Any time longer and he'll probably start to get a bit of an itchier trigger finger and pay more attention to us. Right now he's just gloating. In a week or two, that will probably change.”

“And the second reason?” Des asked. There was eagerness in their tone. Despite all of their bitching about what I do for a . . . living, they were always curious. For them, it was like living in a spy novel. Just close enough to be interesting, without actually being shot at.

“Pretty much everyone is going to have their hands full and be a bit distracted. Bion is already on the scene and trying to stop something. Looks like Smash Gal is actually having trouble. Good for her,” I said, taking a small amount of pleasure in the fact that someone was bullying her for once.

“What's going on?” My two friends asked at the same time.

“The Grignau are attacking. Now is going to be the best time to get as much as possible, make a decent rig and improve on it as we're going. Fortunately, while I was laid out, I started making some changes to the programming already. With a couple of modifications, I should be able to get something up and running. Provided that neither of us explodes and we can be in and out quickly.” I looked at Cindi Drei. The Buck Cherry. “What d'ya say? You up for a date?”

“He can be such a gentleman when he wants to be. Don't you think, doctor?” She said with a giggle. It was her flirty giggle that she used to flatter men and the occasional woman and a fair number of enbies. I'd like to say that I didn't fall for it, but I think everyone can see straight through that. Des just shook their head.

“You're both idiots.”

“True,” I said, busting out my app. I called it Popp. Technically, when I had my glasses, they were running through Popp. I had borrowed one of the Wan En satellites which were accurate up to about a second or two's delay in real-time and within about a meter, not like the commercial satellites which had a much wider variance for my purposes. I had installed the ability to upload building schematics and to take in scans of AR data from the glasses. And since I had already been in Wan En, I had a pretty good idea of where I needed to go. I chose the floor and Cindi and I snapped off.