#neppyshub

“Cass, you alright?” Dick asked, having walked over. He was as put-together, friendly, and handsome as ever, but not what she needed right now.

“Barbara,” the Batgirl said curtly, looking over at her brother. Her way of asking a question, really.

“I…think she’s upstairs, actually. She visited last night and hasn’t left for work- Hey!”

The heroine was already rushing out of the cave, throwing a hand over her back as a ‘thanks’ while Dick stared on with confusion. But Cassandra didn’t have time for the confusing world of speech and social cues- When something that felt this important stabbed itself into her brain, it would become her sole focus. How to talk about this, however, was the question she had as she stormed down the hallways past dozens of rooms in the manor, bee-lining for the kitchen. As she imagined, there was her mentor sitting beside Alfred, who insisted on sending her away with some sort of treat.

Mentor. That was the word that had just come to mind. But was it sufficient? Did one cry over the mere thought of a mentor passing? Was it more? Appropriate? Too much?

“Cass…” Barbara said slowly, raising an eyebrow, watching her friend frozen at the entrance of the kitchen with wide eyes and confusion. “Are you alright?”

“What are we?”

The question hit like a sledgehammer. Both Alfred and Barbara stared at Cassandra, then shared a look of concern, if not for her, then for themselves, because how does one answer that? Alfred speaks first, clearing his throat politely and turning to the counter.

“If you would like a word in private, then I will be happy to leave, Miss Cain, but please sit down and enjoy the snacks.” The butler turns back around with a plate of cookies, smelling warm and chocolatey, and sets them on the table. Barbara put her bag down (work be damned) and rolled herself up to the table, grabbing a cookie and waving it to the empty seat, as if telling her protege to join her.

“Stay,” Cassandra said to Alfred, sitting down. She added quietly. “Please.”

Again, the two adults shared a glance before Alfred joined the table, hands neatly pressed together on its surface. No one spoke at first. Where to start?

“Maybe you could explain yourself a little better, Cass,” Barbara suggested, smiling unsurely. “What do you mean, what are we?”

“What do you think we are? What do you call me?”

“Uh…my friend,” Barbara says, looking down at the plate of cookies. “My family. Someone I love fiercely, and whom I can’t imagine my life without.” She’s smiling now, glasses falling down her nose, staring at the younger Batgirl. She takes a cookie, turning it in her hand. “You are someone I’m immensely proud of, and I’d do anything for you.”

“I…like that,” Cassandra admitted slowly, her ears turning pink at the barrage of compliments. “But does that mean…family? Friends? Something else? Mother?”

“You want a word, Miss Cain?” Alfred smiled in that way of his: Soft and amused but never belittling. Never sarcastic, impatient, or surprised. Reassuring, as he always was. Happy to take over as Barbara choked on her cookie at the word ‘mother’. “If I may, when two people are close- Be it a relationship, friendship, parent-child, comrades-in-arms, or any other mix, there are few single words that do those feelings justice. Fewer still that apply to situations such as ours, where nothing is cut and dry.”

“Yeah, you couldn’t just be my friend, or sister, or protege. You’re…so much more than that. Even though we don’t have words for it. I could say the same about other people I love, like Dick.” Barbara smiles wider, biting her cookie happily, the tension erased. “But if anyone ever asks, I guess you can just call us family.”

“It is a good word,” Alfred agreed pointedly, pushing the plate closer to Cassandra.

“…if I feel a lot for you,” Cassandra says quietly, taking a cookie but not biting it quite yet. She looks down at it, avoiding the two adults, a hint of shame appearing on her face. “But feel…different. For others. People I should love. Is it…fake? Bad?”

“Of course not, Cass.” Barbara leans over the table, taking the younger one’s hand in both of hers, still smiling ear to ear. “It’s just different for everyone. You can love someone differently, grieve differently, spend time or enjoy it differently. But, at least in this house, we all know how you feel. Even those you might not be as close to. You are a loving person, Cassandra Cain.”

For the first time since the question was posed, the vigilante feels herself relax. She looked between Alfred and Barbara, both supportive in their own ways, both watching her with patience and calm, both loved by her, and she smiled. She squeezed Barbara’s hand before pulling away.

“Thank you. I need to find someone now.”

As Cassandra stood up and walked over, smiling at them both (and grabbing a small handful of cookies), she did notice one thing: Barbara never denied the maternal role. Was that the word she was looking for? Mother? Or were they right, and there was no perfect word? Did she even like the idea of being a daughter? Despite the answers she’d gotten, so much still felt confusing.

Tap tap tap!

Tap tap tap tap!

TAPTAPTAPTAP-!

“Calm down, I’m here!” Stephanie Brown hissed, throwing the windows open like this was just another night, looking mildly concerned but not surprised. “You could have texted me! My mom is asleep, Cass.”

“Needed to talk.”

Stephanie stared at her for a slow five seconds, completely puzzled, because Cassandra rarely sounded so serious during her nighttime visits; she was usually very careful, and she was dressed in normal clothes, not her suit or even a black shirt for stealth. Her hair was ruffled, as if she’d run here.

“Alright, come on in.”

“What are we?”

Once again, Cassandra asked her question bluntly, standing right by the window as if to make a quick escape, crossing her arms and staring at her friend. The blonde, for her part, freezes. She doesn’t look over her shoulder or turn around. The tension in her shoulders is obvious, the slight tilt of her head, as if trying to discreetly recover her breath, meaning her heart was racing.

It was a completely different reaction from Barbara.

“What, um, what do you mean?” Stephanie asked, chuckling halfheartedly and grabbing her phone from the bed, scrolling through it. That definitely wasn’t like her. Not with Cassandra. “We’re…friends, right?”

“No.” Cassandra’s reply is firm. It left no rule for discussion, simply a fact to her. It’s the sudden spin from the blonde, the way her blue eyes widen, how her hand grips her phone too tightly, that tells Cassandra she said the wrong thing. So she fixes it: “I love you.”

Now that they were facing each other, there was no hiding how much Cassandra had not fixed things. She watches with shock as those blue eyes widen further, her body completely freezes, her cheeks turn bright red, and her phone falls out of her hand. She easily sees: Shock. Confusion. Fluster.

Fluster?

Cassandra stares at her, cheeks also growing warmer from embarrassment, because Barbara hadn’t reacted this way at all. She’d said it easily and honestly. So why would Stephanie react this way?

“What do you mean by that exactly?” Stephanie asked quietly, not daring to move an inch. Racked with concern, Cassandra wanted nothing more than to hold her, to give her friend the reassurance she usually needed. But she stays still.

“When I think of something bad happening to you,” Cassandra starts, touching her sternum. “It hurts. Right here. You and Barbara. No one else. I felt bad because I do…care about others. But you two…it is different.”

“Oh,” Stephanie says, still staring. She doesn’t relax, but to Cassandra, the little inkling of curiosity is profoundly obvious. “Is it different between Babs and me, too?”

“I don’t know.”

The honest truth. Her eyes left Stephanie for a moment, thinking on the question. Was it different? Both invoked pain. She was comfortable with both of them. They both meant everything to her. But…only Stephanie appeared in her mind. Only Stephanie could share a bed with her after watching movies. Only Stephanie could see her glare and still smile like a radiant sun-

“Yes, it is different,” she decided, before her thoughts strayed any further.

“Well…” Stephanie smiled at that answer, still flustered but clearly much happier. Her usual goofiness was gone, replaced with a gentle joy as she started nervously playing with a blonde curl. “I don’t know what we are, I guess. Friends doesn’t feel right, does it?”

“No.”

“Then…what do you want to call me?”

That was it. What did she, Cassandra Cain, want to say? And really, she didn’t need words. It was her choice how she felt. As long as she showed them, in her way, it clearly didn’t matter. It’s what Cassandra herself wanted. It made more sense to her than any incomplete title or tag ever could.

“Thank you,” Cassandra says, surging forward and wrapping her arms around Stephanie tightly. “One more person to see.”

“Wait-!”

Just like that, the headstrong and objective vigilante was gone. She had her answers, but what she didn’t see was Stephanie fall onto her bed, sighing, looking completely lost.

“…do you love me?” Stephanie whispered to herself.

It was late by the time Cassandra returned to the manner. She had donned her suit. A full black ensemble with a yellow utility belt, bat logo on her chest, and thick soled boots for extra height and protection. Only her mask was off, revealing a determined and confident expression. She knew where her person was: In the cave, training, as she always did alone while the others patrolled.

“Cass!”

As soon as the elevator doors hissed up Sol turned around from the weights she was using, dropping them and jogging over. She was the newest stray brought to the manor. Not exactly family but also not someone they could let go. Not yet. The two had their fair share of issues, and now Cassandra realized she may have been unfair to the other girl. Time to fix that.

“I’ve been looking for all day,” Sol said, standing straight with her hands planted on her hips. She was wearing sweatpants and a black tank top with sneakers. Her tan skin, seen on broad shoulders and tan arms, was exposed. Her chocolate curls were short but also finally growing out, and her eyes glowed green with the power of the Lazarus Pit. Or, at least, that was the working theory. “Can we talk?”

Her body showed all the information Cassandra couldn’t possibly pick up via social cues. The smile, so warm and real, was an expert mask for anxiety. The shifting, for such a high-energy person, hid fear. The green eyes pulsed. Not just anxiety, Sol was trying to hide the dullness of her glow that often came about when she felt bad or down.

“Me too.” It hurt Cassandra to see her so wound up. Hiding in plain sight, because anyone else would struggle to notice what she just saw. She holds her hands behind her back, exhaling deeply. “I’m-”

“I’m sorry,” Sol interrupts.”

What?

“It was unfair of me to question your relationships, especially knowing how hard socializing was and can be for you.” The green-eyed girl inhaled deeply, as if gathering her courage. “I was mad. At everything. You too, for some of the stuff you’ve done, but…more so, everything else. And I’m tired, Cassandra, really fucking tired. So I jumped on you, and it wasn’t just wrong, it was cruel.” Sol looked away, body shivering as she held back tears, scoffing at herself for it. “You don’t need to explain how you feel to anyone. ‘Least of all me. What you have with your people is obvious, and don’t let me ruin that ‘cause I’m a yapper.”

“You confuse me,” Cassandra said, grabbing the other girl’s arms so she would be quiet, stepping closer. They’re the same height, and Sol tenses as Cassandra leans in closer. “But you are good. I like challenge. I like…honesty. I’m sorry. I treated you badly. I was jealous.” The words weren’t easy. Cassandra didn’t usually feel wrong, and talking about it was strange. “Your question…made me learn. A lot. About people. Thank you.”

“Jealous?”

That was an entirely different can of worms to open up. So, Cassandra simply opted to hug Sol, then she released her and put her mask on, walking backwards towards the exit.

“We train tomorrow.”

Not a question, or suggestion, but a promise. She wouldn’t ignore or compete with this girl anymore. They were friends, right? Cassandra knew it was time they both started acting like it, and unlike most of her experiences with people, she was going to take the first step.

She fought like she’d trained her whole life for it. That’s what Oracle had said when she’d shown Steph and Cass the videos from street cameras and bystanders she’d spliced together. They watched the moment her voice had been cut off, leaving them both worried sick, and the actions that followed. Civilians bitten by Lupus had begun to turn, almost at the same time, and one had surprised Sol. As she wrestled it on the ground, taking claw and tooth, her earpiece was damaged. Then she kicked it off and threw an explosive batarang, forcing it back. When she stood, four baby werewolves faced her.

It should have been game over. Yet, Sol stood up with pulsing green eyes and pulled out more batarangs. Without a single kill, she spent the entire time the Batgirls were inside fighting on her own. Slowly, but surely, she would wrestle or grab a wolf, eyes flashing as she tried to heal them, and they would actually collapse and turn human. From what Cassandra could see, she had used Judo, Capoeira, Aikido, and more.

Not something a civilian girl from Gotham University should just know. Not a fight she should have won.

“I hope we figure something out,” Stephanie said, her voice unusually soft and insecure. She spoke to fill the anxious silence, more than anything else, and brought Cassandra to an even more pressing thought: Herself.

She had been ready to kill for Stephanie, and would never know if she’d actually have done it, thanks to Sol. But regardless of the sin, the anger had been there, the want. All for her best friend. It brought back that comment from a week ago, and the question that prompted it.

I love you.

What are they to you?

Her brown eyes looked up to Steph, blonde hair flowing freely over her shoulders, blue eyes shadowed with concern, skin fair, smooth, and perfect. She was only wearing blue jeans, sneakers, and a purple (of course) hoodie, yet to Cassandra she was the warmth on this chilled day.

I love you. There it was, again, that invasive thought. So often had those words returned, the vigilante wasn’t quite sure what to make of them. Now, here they were. Together. Walking, talking, and pretending to just hang out as civilians. Even if this was really an investigation, when had this last happened? Just the two of them?

“It will be okay,” Cassandra said, taking her friend's hand. The blonde snapped her eyes over, glancing over at Cass, who had opted for leggings, sneakers as well, and a yellow and black Gotham Knights varsity jacket Dick had given her. Her short black hair was loose, tickling her ears each time a gust of wind pushed by them.

“I’m her best friend,” Stephanie said quietly, squeezing Cass’s hand as she walked and talked. “I have more people in my life. But Sol? That was it, for the longest time, it was me. And I...didn’t do that justice. I should have seen something. I should have known. I could have brought her in sooner. Investigated.”

“No,” Cass said again, simple but firm. “Not your fault.”

“A meta human, with complete amnesia about the first sixteen years of her life, with training.” Stephanie scoffed, stepping closer to Cassandra but not meeting her eyes. “I should have noticed something.”

The quiet one recognized this: One of those annoying things ‘normal’ people did, when they tried to act angry or solitary, but really wanted reassurance, or help. The way she did not look at her and blamed herself, mixed with the sudden closeness and the tightness of their hand.

“That’s why we are doing this,” Cassandra said softly, shifting her arm to go around Stephanie’s waist in a protective manner. “To find out the truth and help her. Your friend. To figure it out.”

“There’s a lot for us to figure out, huh?”

At those words, soft and sweet, from Stephanie reached Cassandra’s ears, and those blue eyes looked deep into her brown ones, the girl meant to be a weapon felt something new: A blush. No, not the pink cheeks she’d gotten for Superboy once upon a time, but a full-on overheating of the body. Red bloomed from her ears and cheeks, crawling down her neck, until it reached the racing heartbeat in her chest.

I love you.

And then the two arrived, the moment interrupted by duty.

Before them stood the Elizabeth Home of Psychiatric Wellness. Located in Elizabeth, New Jersey, it’s the only place anyone could track Sol, too, and only those she had decided to share the information with, as there was no mention of her on paper or online. The building itself looked colonial, made of large dark stones that went up four stories, and pointed spires that shot up past the rooftop on all four corners. A rusting but once beautiful wrought iron fence protected the property, with spikes at the top, and a closed gate with a security guard impeded their progress.

“How can I help you two young ladies?” He asked, barely looking up. “Visiting someone?”

“Actually, looking for information on a former patient. She’s a friend,” Stephanie said, truthfully and cheerfully, that innate charm seeping outwards to the lame guard. She tugged Cassandra forward, nodding, and the silent one pulled out a small photo of Sol- A rare case of her smiling, her eyes still brown, from a Polaroid Steph had taken long ago. She looked tired and annoyed, but it was her.

“Go on in.”

“That was easy,” Cassandra whispered as the two walked through the gate, still holding Stephanie’s waist.

“A lot of these places aren’t very serious,” the blonde whispered back, as the two walked through a massive mahogany door into your typical clinic: Sterile, white hallways, flickering LED lights, and people dressed in scrubs. “Sol only remembers the last three months of her stay: Waking up to be discharged. The stuff she told me...wasn’t pretty.”

“What did she tell you?”

“That if this one lady, Lupita, hadn’t been here, she might have woken up in a worse state.” Stephanie frowned, the thought clicking. “If we find her first, we can probably get some information. Sol said she was supposed to be a personal caretaker. Feedings, cleanings, so on. This lady was there when Sol woke up.”

“I think we found her.”

The two had been walking deeper into the building, down a hallway, when Cassandra heard a jostle and looked into the open door next to her. Inside was a patient's room- a simple wooden floor, a small bed, black curtains parted so sunlight could pour in through a barred window. Caught mid-look was a woman slightly shorter than both heroines, with black hair, scrubs, scrawled on eyebrows and lips with too much red lipstick. A hand went up to her chest, but Cassandra caught it: A name tag that said ‘Lupita.’

“Are you Lupita?” Stephanie immediately asked, stepping in front of Cassandra, whom she knew to be too intimidating, even now. “We’re here to ask about an old patient. Um, Sol?”

“I sorry,” she replied, glancing between the two of them nervously. “I don’ know. No English.”

“Nosotras,” Stephanie repeats, slowly, her words awkward but clear. “Queremos preguntar sobre Sol.” When Cassandra gave her a puzzled look, she simply smiled and shrugged. “One of my best friends speaks Spanish, and it’s useful to know.”

“Supongo que no puedo pretender”, Lupita sighed.

Cassandra didn’t understand her, but the confusion on Stephanie’s face mixed with Lupita’s now serious expression, and the way her left hand shifted behind her, was enough to make her spring into action. Without thinking, Cassandra pushed Stephanie out of the room and kicked Lupita square in the stomach.

Click!

She fell and revealed the small device that made that sound. The door automatically slammed, and the vigilante turned around, seeing her friend running up just one second too late.

“Cass! Cass!” Stephanie yelled, pulling on the handle and then pounding on the glass. Nothing.

“Who are you?” Cassandra snapped, spinning back around and planting her foot on Lupita’s chest, heart racing. Already, her head was getting dizzy. A trap, clear as day, for anyone who might investigate Sol. “Who hired you?”

“Ay, mija,” Lupita sighed, smiling pitifully. “Neither of us will be alive for it to matter.”

Uh oh, Cassandra thought, as one knee suddenly gave out. She touched the pulse point on her throat, confirming her heart was skyrocketing, and felt her brow for sweat. Then her vision began to swim and morph.

“Fear Toxin,” Cassandra croaked. Then she turned to the door, louder. “Fear Toxin!”

But Stephanie, the door, and the room were already gone. Instead, everything had been absorbed by darkness. Not the comfortable kind, not the ally she was used to, but a goopy and thick kind that seemed to drown her, allowing no quick movement or easy escape.

I can handle this, she thought to herself, trying to control her breathing. I’ve trained for this. They’d all prepared for this eventuality, whether they’d been unlucky enough to experience fear toxin or not. It would show her her greatest fear. Herself. She knew that. All she had to do-

“Love?”

The room was suddenly solid again. She was standing. A light shone from a doorway with a back-lit figure, but Cassandra would recognize that voice and that silhouette anywhere.

“Stephanie,” she said softly, lifting a hand between them, as if unsure whether to ward her off or pull her close. The toxin was clouding her mind; she knew it, but that didn’t make it any easier to remember what was real. Besides, why was Steph here? Cassandra knew her biggest fear.

“Spoiler alert,” Stephanie said with a too-wide grin. “I don’t love you.”

Oh no. Not that word. Not that thought. She wasn’t ready for-.

“First, you were jealous of Tim,” Stephanie cooed, stepping closer, forcing Cassandra to step back. “Boy Wonder and I had it good for so long. We were so close. Who knows, if it wasn’t for Bruce, maybe we would’ve stayed together. I still have feelings for him.”

Each word felt like a cut on Cassandra’s skin. She shook her head, retreating another step, heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her skull.

“No. We’ve talked about that. I know the truth,” she said, swallowing hard and looking away, reassuring herself. There was a way out of this. She just had to use calm logic, and-

“What’s pretty fucked up,” the fear-toxin Steph spoke on. “Is being jealous of my child. The one I never got to know. The first thing you said was you’d never had a kiss. You couldn’t even look at me.”

“That wasn’t because-”

“-because you saw me badly, no.” Stephanie pressed a hand to Cassandra’s heart, as if feeling the frantic beat herself. She leaned in, whispering in her ear. “You were just jealous I was with someone else. Cared more about that than my pain, than my child, than me.”

“Stephanie, please-”

“There’s also Sol,” the blonde continued, the sound of each slow step punctuated in Cassandra’s mind, making her panic intensify. “We are best friends. The only real person in my day life, in college, a normal person with normal problems. I know you see the way I look at her.”

“Stop it-”

“You can’t even be too mad at it, can you?” Stephanie chuckled, sighing and running a hand through her hair. “While you got all jealous and knocked her while she was down, Sol stayed strong. She did good. You admire that. You like who she is. So, she’s gotta be good for me, right?”

“I’m begging you-!”

“Sol would treat me right. She’d always worry about me. Always say the right thing, ask the right question, and get me what I need. She’s the opposite of you, a weapon with no emotion.”

“I said stop!” Cassandra yelled, grabbing her friend by the throat and wrist, spinning and pinning her hard into the wall instead, panting harshly. “I am not afraid of you! Of this! I- I don’t- We are-”

“I’m only around you because I have no choice,” Stephanie choked, grasping at her throat. She grins again, tears welling in her eyes. “You’re a monster. How could I love you?”

Cassandra screams. At the words, at the pain she’s putting Stephanie through, at the irrational fear coursing through her heart. She was ready for herself, ready for her murderous side, ready for the past that had been so unfairly given to her. Not this. She couldn’t beat or wake up from this, and in the back, some small part of her mind reminded her she was still potentially awake somewhere, hurting someone in her panic.

So if she couldn’t beat it, she could only avoid it.

Cassandra turned and ran out of the door, into the light, and didn’t stop. Not as it grew stronger. Not as everything around her disappeared. She ran, and ran, and ran until everything finally went dark.

Until all she was aware of were the tears streaming down her face.

Yanagi didn’t get her chance to speak, not yet, because the Chief of Hollow Special Operations Section 6, Hoshimi Miyabi, sprang ahead by herself. With her sword, Tailless, in hand, she searched for the enemy along their pre-planned route, single-handedly cutting Ethereals to bits. Every alleyway, town square, or ruined building had a blue streak of destruction zipping through it. Roars were silenced halfway, blasts of ether dodged before they could travel halfway to their target. They weren’t so deep in Hollow Zero that she, or any of her team, for that matter, couldn’t handle themselves. Each time her team caught up safely, she bound off again, spreading destruction to the creatures of the Hollow and guiding her people forward.

A moment later, she realized her mistake when her three companions caught up, panting and sweating. Harumasa, in particular, was leaning on his bow like a walking aid, panting heavily.

“Chief,” Yanagi said, forcing composure upon herself, standing straighter and exhaling softly. “You need to slow down. We can’t- can’t keep up with your pace. Even worse, you will be burnt out if we do run into real trouble.”

Her fox ears twitched, a sign of nervousness that betrayed her stoic face. “Apologies, everyone.” She turned away, staring out at the apocalyptic vista. Crumbling skyscrapers and cracked roads, destroyed vehicles and glowing ether crystals. A maze of death holding a new secret. A new threat.

Yanagi stepped forward, gently taking Miyabi’s shoulder, her brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong, Chief?”

“I’m...not sure,” she replied, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She did trust these three. With her life, even. But in moments like these, she had to remind herself to show it. To give them the trust they had all earned. Miyabi turns around, meeting their worried gazes. “The revelation of the rifts, the potential for chaos, it has me...worried.”

“I think we’re all worried, chief,” Harumasa chirped, patting his chest and standing tall again. He waved his arms to the group. “I mean, we all understand how this could change things. For better or worse.”

“For...better?” Miyabi’s question came unsurely, red eyes staring blankly at the archer.

It was Soukaku who spoke up, grinning. “Yeah! What if- What if there are other people? Other cities? With their own foods and games and-”

“What Soukaku means,” Yanagi cut in, putting a hand on the child’s shoulder, smiling at her ward. “Is that we all know anything could be out there. It will change things. It can be scary, but...it could be good.”

Good. The thought hadn’t occurred to Miyabi. She had imagined any number of destructive scenes: Ethereals pouring out of rifts from beyond the dark wall, new and more powerful variants such as the miasmic enemies of the Lemnian Hollow, enemy armies from city states that shouldn’t exist, rebel cells that had found the rifts first and used them to make hidden bases and were just waiting to attack New Eridu and kill anyone that dare search for them. Things that, no matter how much she trained, could take her by surprise. Unknown quantities. Scary scenarios.

Her lip twitched. Was she scared?

“Miyabi,” Yanagi said softly, looking down at the thiren and squeezing her shoulder. “We can handle this. But we have a better chance if we stand together. You don’t have to worry about what’s coming next.”

“You...are right,” Miyabi murmured, eyes flickering over the three of them. She felt her shoulders relax a fraction, and a shy smile appeared on her face. “Whatever it is, we can handle it.”

Her reflection was greeted with three equally relieved and amused expressions. Soukaku was grinning ear-to-ear, Harumasa visibly relaxed, and Yanagi smiled reassuringly, nodding in agreement.

Boom!

The moment, so lighthearted and reassuring, lasted all of three seconds before an explosion rocked the ground. Miyabi’s hand immediately gripped her sword hilt, turning around to scan the horizon while her fellows stumbled. In the distance, she could see it. A plume of smoke rising into the sky, coming from the open side of a skyscraper.

“Yanagi,” Miyabi barked, not bothering to turn around.

“I understand. Go.”

The Void Hunter was off in an instant. Her feet left the ground the moment her deputy gave acknowledgment with speed that could only come from years of training and the agility of her animal heritage. The Ethereals in the way were of no concern: She raced past them trusting her teammates to navigate the path safely or take them out as needed. Her only goal was that explosion because it meant someone else was there. It was either a well-armed enemy or, more likely, a member of Obol Squad.

With a slash of her blade, she tore through three Alpecas, what passed as typical fodder for these monsters, in a blink, using the energy from her blow to launch her forward. Her feet landed against the side of the building, and with a grunt, Miyabi was running up the wall, keeping her momentum strong and swift so as not to fall off. Things weren’t allowed to be simple, however, as several Blastcrawlers hurled themselves or fell off the upper floors. Ball-like critters with spindly legs that enjoyed exploding. They glowed red and seemed to pulse with energy, ready to blow.

Inhaling deeply to refocus her thoughts and calm her heart, Miyabi unsheathed her blade and refused to slow down. She slid down, under the first Blastcrawler, allowing it to fall past her and exploding harmlessly somewhere below. The second was clearly more charged up and would explode beside her, so Miyabi continued her run, pulled her blade back and focused, feeling the energy within her, the rhythm that guided her element, Foxfire. With one swing, an arc of blue fire shot out from the blade, cutting right through her enemy. Both halves of the creature fell past her harmlessly. The third was too close and impossible to dodge, but she had already accounted for that. The fox thiren sheathed her blade once more and lifted her metal arm, gripping onto the creature as it fell past her. She kicked off the wall, spinning them both, until she was upright and facing the wall. Then, she kicked off of it with all her might. The Ethereal exploded and the blast sent Miyabi flying upwards without much damage or worry. She sailed through the air, wind whipping her cloak and ears, about to overshoot the floor where the explosion happened.

A flick of her wrist had her blade out one more time. It glowed with blue flames, easily penetrating the stone of the building and acting as a sudden anchor. With a twist of her body she flipped once in the air, pulling herself into the open floor of the damaged structure, and landing into a crouch with her sword in hand.

Miyabi inhaled slowly, slid her blade into its sheath, and then exhaled.

She looked up to take in the situation. The building itself was an old parking garage, a small part of the overall skyscraper and relatively close to the ground, with rusted cars and crystallized ether growing out of the walls. Faded paint on the floor directed her towards the next level with an arrow and a large L3. There were no Ethereals here, but the signs of combat were everywhere: Flickering flames, bullet holes in the walls, and the last remnants of enemies fading back into the ether.

Her ears straightened as more gunshots rang from somewhere above her. The sound was heavy and piercing, definitely a large caliber gun, and given the person’s continued survival, they were either lucky or trained. Likely, the latter, Miyabi assumed.

She jogged ahead, going up the path onto level three and then continuing straight ahead until she hit a staircase. She bounded up the railings, avoiding the steps entirely as she jumped back and forth from rail to rail, until she arrived where the gunfire was loudest.

There was a final door, metal and barely hanging on its hinges, which she immediately slammed her heel into. It went flying, and Miyabi walked on through, scanning the room with burning determination. At first, she saw nothing and was about to climb to the next floor. Then something moved in her periphery. She swung her blade immediately, seeing another Blastcrawler inches from her, and for a moment, the voice in the back of her head said Too late.

Then a blast sounded behind the monster. A bullet sizzling with blue electrical currents pierced the enemy, flying right by Miyabi’s head, and turning the beast to etheric ash immediately. Her red eyes glanced up to see the shooter: A very skinny woman with pale skin, dressed in orange and black, with platinum blonde hair tied into a short ponytail. Definitely a member of the military. Miyabi took three seconds to understand the situation: The soldier was surrounded by basic Ethereals, Aplecas, Blastcrawlers, and Fauns. She used incredible dexterity to jump, twist, spin, and slide around the creatures, firing with a sniper rifle even in close quarters. It occurred to Miyabi that this soldier had spotted her being ambushed and protected her while literally dancing around a mob.

Time to return the favor.

The Void Hunter dashed into the fray, understanding the situation in full, and gritting her teeth as she joined the soldier. It was no contest. The two of them seemed oddly well paired. With more breathing room, the sniper stayed out of range of the Thiren and the Ethereals. Anytime Miyabi gave her back to an enemy, stunned an enemy, or even made them stumble, there was a bullet taking advantage of their confusion or hesitation, and no matter how she moved, there was never a risk of getting shot herself. The two were a tornado of electric and fiery blue, weaving around each other to shoot and cut every monster down.

Minutes later, the battle was done. She sheathed her blade once more, standing tall, and exhaled softly. All around them, the monsters were turning into etheric ash, which itself was quickly disappearing.

“Please identify yourself,” Miyabi said, turning around to face the sniper. She made no attempt to threaten the other, but her hand did not leave the hilt of her blade.

Up close, she could see the details of the woman she’d saved. She wore orange and black sneakers with thick rubber soles, skintight latex pants that rose to a nearly bare and incredibly slender waist. Two straps crossed her torso in a X, most likely to help keep her vest on. The vest only covered her chest and had small pockets and ammunition pouches attached to it. Lastly, the soldier wore a puffy top that only covered her neck, shoulders, and arms down to the elbow, tapering off into more skintight latex and fingerless gloves.

The strangest part was her face plate. It was a smooth metal covering her eyes and the space around them, and had two tiny light indicators underneath where each one would be. Currently, they glowed a soft blue.

The sniper looked over Miyabi for a moment, noting the way she held her blade, and kept still. “Trigger. Sniper for Obol Squad, yes. I take it they sent you after us?”

“Correct.” Miyabi nodded, loosening the grip on her blade. “My team is securing the area around us and will soon join. What can you tell me about the situation?”

Trigger walked over to the edge of the building, staring out over the city, and hummed. “I see them. They’re heading here as we speak. Good, we can’t waste any time.”

“Please, explain.” Miyabi joined her, frowning imperceptibly. She couldn’t see her squad at all.

“My team all fell through different rifts.” Trigger’s voice was severe. The grip on her rifle tightened painfully. Both women shared a look. “I made it back by pure luck. If we don’t find a way to get carrot data to help rescue them, then they’ll be stuck forever, and each moment we waste means they could be fighting any number of new enemies.”

She turned around and began to walk away, towards the staircase, leaving Miyabi with this information. The fox thiren thought for a few moments, then spoke.

“What do you mean by new enemies?”

“The rifts are spawning Ethereals we have never seen before,” Trigger replied, looking over her shoulder. “An army of new soldiers that is threatening to pour out into Hollow Zero and New Eridu.”

Miyabi’s fears had become prophetic. This was exactly what she worried about. And now she had to expose her own team to these dangers.