Genre: humour, family
Features the supervillains from Family Secret. They debuted in Secret Inheritance.
“The target is a phone so new it doesn’t even have a name yet. No one knows what Mr. Top Hat wants it for, but the police are on high alert,” the news anchor said.
A beep cut through the bustle, followed by an explosion of purple clouds and sparkles. In the chaos, a figure slipped in.
Unlike what the public thought, their target wasn’t an unfinished plan. It was much simpler than that. One phone. A normal phone, just one of many, to give to their son as a birthday gift.
By the time Mr Top Hat was ‘defeated and forced to flee’, she was already home, brand new phone in hand.
Their too-righteous son wouldn’t be happy if he knew where his new phone came from. That was a simple problem to solve. They would just make sure he never found out.
Genre: superpowers, fantasy
Features the girl from Fear.
She hated every moment, but it had to be done. It would be dark soon, and they couldn’t leave their friend to wonder alone on the mountain trail.
While everyone searched from ground level, she looked down from the sky, all the while chanting to herself.
“Don’t fall don’t fall don’t fall don’t fall.”
She finally found their missing member on a completely different path, making noises at a bird in a tree. Feeling a little petty, she grabbed him without warning and hauled him into the air.
“Ahh! Put me down!”
“In a minute.” She shot back towards the rest of the group and landed on sweet, solid ground.
Then she stepped back to give the others clear access to their wandering friend.
“Where were you?”
“What were you thinking?”
Read after Third Chance.
The first time she saw his work, she was at the mall, waiting for her friends to arrive.
He was just one of many artists in an art expo held in the atrium. In fact, his stall was very plain, but it was also the easiest for her to casually browse as she waited.
What she found were beautifully illustrated calendars and weekly planners, each season, month, and day lovingly designed with their own distinct character.
She ended up buying his weekly planner. By the end of the day, she had stalked every platform he used to share his artwork.
So when he stopped posting new art, she noticed.
And it was good that she did, or he would have stayed in that secret facility forever afraid of himself.
Now, not only was she the reason fans like herself could enjoy his new era of artwork, she could look forward to her own special piece. Life was good.
“Did they really?” they whispered.
“Heard she got cornered near the labs.”
Holding their food, Leora and Edmund made their way through the gossiping Fighters.
“Everyone’s lively today,” Leora commented.
“Someone found out who Shadow is. They’ll announce it tonight in Training Room E-5,” Edmund said.
“I haven’t decided yet. What about you?”
“No. I’m pretty sure Lavi’s going to shut the whole thing down anyway because ‘it’s a distraction and a waste of time’. You won’t want to get caught.”
When the time came, they deliberately started a game in Leora’s unofficial office, far away from the training room where the identity reveal was happening.
By the time they finished fifteen minutes later, everyone involved had been slapped with extra duties as punishment by a very unimpressed Lavi.
To rub salt into the wound, the people who organised the announcement weren’t even right.
The arm guards had massive, clunky bulbs at the end that worked by creating a large, empty space around his hands so he was physically unable to touch anything to destroy it, even the arm guards themselves. It wasn’t the best solution, but it worked, and that was all that mattered.
He hated them.
He might have to wear them for the rest of his life.
The door to his cell opened.
“Yo. Missed me?”
It was the counselor who had got him out of the facility years ago.
“Oh? That’s a better reaction than last time,” she said as she walked in with her briefcase. “In a more years you might even give me a handshake.”
“Too soon? Sorry.” She unlatched the briefcase and opened it. Two shimmery somethings sat inside. “So, how have you been?”
“Pretty good. Until…” He shrugged.
“If it helps, Sweet Medic brought his arms back, so all good. We just need to deal with you.”
He looked at the open briefcase.
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“You have a choice. Stay in here like last time, or wear these at all times.” She tapped the briefcase.
“What are they?”
“Specially commissioned gloves by Spellweaver. They’re basically cooler looking seals to nullify your powers. So, freedom or power?”
“Freedom.” Hands down. Every time.
“Well then. Arms on the table.”
He did what she said. She reached over and released his arms from the guards.
Seeing his bare hands again made his breath catch. Tentatively, he touched the shimmering light in the briefcase.
The seal rippled, but otherwise remained unchanged.
Carefully, the counsellor put the seals on his hands. They sunk into his skin like tattoos.
“Right now, they completely block your powers. Spellweaver requests that you visit often so he can refine the seals so it keeps everyone safe but you can still continue your work.”
That sounded good. Too good.
“What’s the price?” he asked. In hindsight, he should have asked that first before accepting the seals.
“A special piece for his sister, who’s been a fan of your work even before you got your powers, who also happens to be me.”
“Deal?” She smiled.
In a city where superpowers existed, it was hard to stand out.
But these two did it easily.
If there was anything newsworthy, the newsanchor and camerawoman duo was first on the scene. Didn’t matter how remote, how high, how packed, they would have the best shot before their competitors even reached the scene.
And they were 100% normal.
No superpowers, no special contract to borrow anyone’s powers, just two normal people who were hungry for news.
“How do you do that?”
Genre: slice of life
It was a sunny day, perfect for a stroll, a nap, a photo, a lot of things.
Yet here she was, armed and weighted down by a bunch of protective equipment.
“You look like you’re about to jump into a pool of poop,” Silas said with a wry smile, “It’s not that bad.”
“People are going to shoot at me for fun. How is that not bad?” Zoey grumbled.
“You get to shoot back.”
A buzz cut through the air, signalling the start of their capture the flag game.
He faced forward, turning his back to her. For a moment, she entertained the thought of shooting that deliciously unprotected back. An almost literal backstab.
Depending on how petty Silas was feeling that day, that would just make the already unbearable game even worse.
Instead, she curbed her cravings by jabbing him in the back with her gun.
“What are you going?”
Genre: general, mystery?
People flocked to the mountain for enlightenment, only to return an empty shell of themselves. No one else cared. Neither did he.
Until his little sister became one of those empty shells.
“Something’s not right,” he said as he packed his gear.
His wife didn’t stop him. Just quietly helped him pack.
“Take care of yourself. I would rather you come back empty handed than not come back at all,” she said.
He kissed her. Then again, just in case.
He walked out to join the others who shared his goal. All had lost someone to the mountain.
It was an act of self defense. The other guy attacked him with a hammer. Of course he would protect himself.
The part where he completely vanished his attacker’s arms was a complete accident.
His attacker screamed obscenities at him as the paramedics and police swarmed around them.
“It’s not his fault. The other guy attacked him first. I saw it,” said a passerby who had witnessed the whole thing.
Her words disappeared into the cacophony of swearing and sirens. He quietly clamped his hands out of sight, away from everything and everyone.
Someone approached him. One of the agents who were supposed to keep an eye on him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
The agent pulled out a pair of familiar arm guards. “Me too.”
Without a word, they put the guards on his arms, sealing his destructive touch.
“What happens now?” he asked.
~Continue the story in Third Chance~
She turned the music box in every possible direction. Finally, she presented it bottom up to the manager.
“Where is our trademark?”
The manager picked up another music box and flipped it upside down, only to pale at the blank underside.
Between them, they checked a dozen more boxes, but none bore their trademark.
“Has anything from this batch been shipped out?”
“We’re loading them now.”
“Stop it. Don’t send anything out without our trademark.”
She waited until the manager left before she released her illusions. Where the boss was before now stood a girl half her age. The company’s distinctive logo also reappeared underneath the music boxes.
Now, time to find the hidden data.