On average, people don’t think when panic strikes. They react, and whether that reaction is the right one is often up to luck.

The other started to panic.

“Claim the region? What does-”

“We need to go to the strip mall? What will they do if we don’t?”

“Get the kids inside!”

“We-“

Markus stomped down, hard.

He didn’t activate his Skill, not wanting to suffer the energy cost, but his foot still struck the ice hard. He’d put ice melt on his drive, so the weakened patch gave with a loud crack!

The others quieted as they turned to him. He didn’t snap at them, keeping his voice calm but firm.

“Ella is right, we need to get the kids inside, but we shouldn’t be sending anyone to the strip mall just yet.”

“Why?” Ron asked, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Because we don’t know their intentions. I just asked the System what an area claim would let them do. They’ll be able to make laws that are System recognized. Not enforced by the System, but it will tell them anytime someone breaks one.”

“So?”

Ella narrowed her eyes. “We don’t know what this group wants aside from everyone with a Class to register themselves. They want to know who can fight back.”

“We can just shoot them,” Ron pointed out. “I haven’t seen too many of those powers that would stop bullets.”

“Won’t work,” Markus said. “The System restricts guns used by or against people with Classes. You can’t use them at all if you have one. And if you shoot at someone with a Class, it will turn the gun into something less effective, like a flintlock, or a bow or crossbow.”

Ron scowled. “Why!?”

Markus shrugged. “Who knows why the System does what it does? But regardless, we don’t know what these people want, and we shouldn’t give them any information they could use against us. For all we know, they are setting a trap to kill any Class users who show up.”

Markus turned toward his house. “Which is why I’m going to scout while you keep everyone safe here.”

Ron scoffed. “You shouldn’t go by yourself! What if it is a trap!”

Markus turned back and met his eyes. “I’m not going to go inside if I can avoid it. I’m hoping to get a look from a distance. And if I do get attacked, I have a better chance of fighting my way free than anyone else.”

Ron scowled. “Still, going alone…”

Markus leaned in and lowered his voice so the children, who weren’t even hiding their eavesdropping, couldn’t hear them.

“We don’t know what they want, much less what they are willing to do.“ He looked to the children, making sure the other adults understood what he was saying.

“Sending one person with a good chance to escape is our best option. We need everyone else to keep the neighborhood safe.”

Ron ground his teeth but, after a quick glance at Lacey, nodded.

Markus clapped him on the shoulder, then strode into his house. He would need a few things, and then it was time to scout a potential death trap.

~<>~<>~

Running in winter was tricky.

Depending on the day and terrain, it could be safe and easy, with packed snow giving plenty of grip.

Other days running was just asking for a nasty fall.

Ice could hide under pristine snow, and a seemingly stable section of trail could be a brittle layer of white that your foot punches straight through.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the cold.

All of that was true, but having superpowers negated a lot of problems.

Markus raced over the snow, amber light rolling over his skin.

He ducked and weaved between trees before bursting into a yard, his Skills power carrying him forward like an arrow in flight.

The Chugach Square strip mall was a little less than half a mile from his neighborhood, he was going around to approach the place from the opposite direction, but running flat out like he was, it wouldn’t take long to get there.

Markus had thrown on an old set of winter gear no one in the neighborhood had seen him in, and after he was done, he would ditch it.

He was an anonymous Class user, and his balaclava and hat hid most of his features.

His meter was nearly full, and the power that pumped through his veins was intense, making each motion feel right in a way they only did during fights.

His meter filled slower while running than it had fighting in the contest. He supposed it was a hidden condition that the Skill didn’t bother to tell him.

Cold air bit at his few bits of exposed flesh, but he ignored it. He thought his Skill might be sheltering him a little from the cold, but even with a mostly full meter, he could still feel the winter air, so if it did give him protection, it was minor.

Markus neared the strip mall and slowed, leaving a trail in the snow as he slid to a stop.

He was still a good distance out, but he decided to cross the street into the trees. This section of road went right against the edge of a large park with miles of trails. With winter stripping the leaves from the trees, he didn’t have as much cover as he’d like, but it was better than nothing, and besides, he was wearing white winter gear for a reason.

He trudged through the snow for a bit before settling down.

Unmoving as he was, it should be darn hard to spot him, even for people looking for him, and he should be damn near invisible to those who weren’t.

He pulled a pair of binoculars from his pocket and watched the store.

There were already a few people there, though he couldn’t say whether they’d come in response to the System message or had already been shopping.

The strip mall had a Subway, a Kaladi Brothers coffee shop, and a dentist's office. It had a few other shops, but those were the only three Markus ever went to.

Cars started trickling in along with a few people on foot.

As Markus sat and watched, unmoving, the cold started to creep in.

His Skill had already dropped, slamming a wave of exhaustion onto his shoulders.

That was unfortunate, but running as he had without the Skill would’ve left him a sweaty mess. There was a reason people told you to wear layers in the winter.

Moving through snow was tiring, especially with heavy snow gear, and it was easy to overheat and start sweating.

Problem was, once that sweat cooled, you were left wet in an environment

that would kill you for that crime.

Markus would take the hit of exhaustion over the risk of hypothermia.

The minutes ticked by. Stakeouts were dull, mind numbing affairs that ate at your willpower—staring at the same thing for minutes, hours, or even days on end, waiting for something to change.

In comparison, this one was a breeze.

Half an hour later and a dozen more people had shown up.

Well, it was nice to get his own estimate on how many people had Classes in his area; Markus was waiting to catch sight of one of these Red Hand fellows.

As a tall man with pale skin and short blonde hair approached the Kaladi Brothers, a woman opened the door for him. She had light brown skin, around average height, with round features, black hair, dark eyes, and lips set into a firm line.

Markus used Identify.

Morgan Smith

Age: 22

Primary bloodline: Denaʼina

Nationality: American

Thresholds passed: 1

Background: orphaned at a young age, Morgan started working young, throwing herself into task after task, and kept that pattern until my arrival.

Likes: apples

Dislikes: peaches

It was rather basic information. And bloodline? That was certainly one way to describe someone’s background.

Markus had no idea what Class she had or her general temperament, just some personal facts about her background and tastes.

Well, that was useful, any information was useful; Markus was hoping for more.

He watched for a while longer. His total count of class users was fourteen locals and three that he could confidently place in this Red Hand.

He was prepared to wait for even longer when something caught his eye.

Two men left the building. One was the pale blonde man he’d noticed earlier, and the other was new.

He was a little tanner than the first man but still pasty, with ear-length brown hair cut into a shaggy mop, average features, and a lazy smile.

He had his arm thrown over the first man’s shoulders in a seemingly friendly gesture.

Markus immediately noticed the tension in both of their forms. He focused on that arm over the shoulders and saw a faint shimmer around the brown-haired man’s hand.

And then his other hand, one conveniently tucked away in his coat where it would hide if a knife were pressed to the blond’s side.

They started walking away from the strip mall.

Markus could follow them, or he could keep watching the store.

He sighed and put down the binoculars.

It wasn’t really much of a choice.

He wasn’t about to let someone get stabbed who potentially didn’t deserve it.

He stayed put as they cut across the road and slipped into the trees.

Just before he would’ve lost sight of them, he started moving and hit the brown-haired man with an Identify.

Name: Carson Morello

Age: 25

Thresholds passed: 1

Primary bloodline: Polish

Nationality: American

Background: some youth find that age is a convenient shield to hide heinous actions behind. Carson is what you get when that youth grows taller but never grows up.

Hmm, that seemed more opinionated on the System’s part than before.

Why?

The System didn’t answer.

Markus kept his distance. It was hard to tiptoe through snow like this. It was cold, 8 or 9 degrees, which meant there was barely any moisture in the air, causing the snow to crunch and squeak underfoot.

The road was a distant memory, nothing but skeletal trees and white snow all around. Markus carefully bent down and gathered a snowball.

You didn’t tend to take someone this far off the beaten path if you were just planning to threaten them a bit.

Markus activated his Skill but didn’t speed up. He wasn’t moving much, but he was advancing, so his meter slowly filled.

Once it was about half full, he bent down and made a snowball.

He would have to time this just right. He didn’t know how the man would respond to his interruption. Ideally, he would try to run, but he might stab his hostage and be done with it.

Markus moved a little closer while staying as quiet as he could.

Once he was as close as he dared, he hurled the snowball to their left.

It smashed into the snow with a loud splat and Markus took off at a sprint.

The two men jerked in surprise and spun toward the impact.

They would hear Markus charging, but it was too late now. His legs moved with superhuman speed, and he closed the distance before they could properly react.

He grabbed Carson’s arms from behind and jerked him back before he could try something. He lifted the man clear off his feet, the motion so effortless that Markus nearly overbalanced.

He spun, hurling the man away with enough force that he landed the better part of ten feet away.

He hit the snow, bounced, and then came up cursing.

And to Markus’s mild surprise, didn’t even try to fight.

The instant he rose to his feet, he turned and ran.

He waved his hand and the air rippled in front of him. He was jerked from his feet and sailed off, his body flapping like a flag in the wind.

Odd movement Skill. It looked downright painful. He couldn’t think of any Skills he’d seen that looked that unpleasant for the user.

Maybe it wasn’t designed as a movement Skill? Markus shelved the train of thought as the other man turned to him, his stance weary.

Markus raised his hands and made his voice deeper and more gravelly than normal. “Saw him leading you out and figured I’d help. Was he with these Red Hand folks?”

The blond man rubbed at his side and slowly nodded.

“Yeah. They had me go into the Kaladi’s and asked us questions about my Class. After I answered, that guy caught me on the way out. Made it clear that he'd blow a hole through my side if I tried something.”

He kept rubbing at his side. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Markus nodded. “Don't mention it. Are you hurt?”

He shook his head. “No, just never been held to the magical equivalent of gunpoint before.”

The man was somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties and, while obviously rattled, was keeping his cool well.

“We need to move before he comes back with friends.” Markus started running, and the man joined him.

“Any idea why he singled you out?” Markus asked, his voice coming out steady despite the exertion.

The man shook his head. “My Class isn’t crazy or anything like the people in the contest,” he puffed. “I can siphon heat, and that’s almost it.”

Markus scowled, not that the man could tell through his baklava. “Don’t go giving out information on your Class too casually.” A weapon was better when the enemy didn’t know you had it.

The man scoffed. “You just saved my life. If you wanted me hurt, you would have done nothing.”

Well, Markus couldn’t argue with that logic.

From what the man had said, Markus could guess what was happening here.

“Did you drive or walk?”

“Walk, why?”

When you made a territory grab, you didn’t just move. You made sure the people already there couldn’t challenge you.

Markus would bet money that the leader of the Red Hand had a fire-related Class or some other abilities that heat siphoning could counter. Red Hand was a very fire-sounding name.

And they’d tried to kill this guy almost on the spot, so…

“They aren’t going to leave you be. Something about you is a threat, and they just made it clear they won’t abide those. So you need to get to your house and keep your head down or go to a different part of town.”

“And leave you alone against them?”

Markus eyed him. “Have you ever been in a fight?”

The man looked away. “…No.”

“Keep your head down, or leave the area for a few days,” Markus repeated.

“And I counted four Red Hand members from outside. Were there more inside?”

The man nodded. “Yeah. I think there was…six or seven?” He scowled. “I didn’t think to count, so give or take a few.”

So six on the low end, better to potentially highball than lowball, and eight or nine at the high end. And that was assuming this group didn’t have more people in reserve.

They weren’t trying to grab that much land, partially because the System wouldn’t let them, but they could be a small group.

But Markus didn’t know, and that was a problem. With his current information, he was badly outnumbered while he had an entire neighborhood to protect.

An entire neighborhood that could be held hostage.

He didn’t know their limits yet, but this group had just tried to kill a man in cold blood. Markus couldn’t write off anything yet.

Of course, they couldn’t take hostages if they didn’t know who he was.

But he had to plan for the worst case. And even without hostages, he might not be able to take on six, potentially nine, Class users at once.

He needed to get the man to safety, then lose any potential tails.

After that, Markus was going to make a call.