“Hi, folks, sorry for the hassle.” Constantine speaks up first, stepping gingerly through the cafe’s shattered window and raising his hands to placate the plainly panicked patrons. “We’ll just finish this up and get out of your hair.” He meets with mixed success – though not calm, the cafe staff is at least more confused than terrified at the sight of him.

Pamela, on the other hand, wastes no time with niceties, stalking toward the back where Skye and Marco stand. “Do you have the tool?” She directs the question to Marco, not yet bothering to acknowledge Skye’s presence.

“That I do,” Marco says reproachfully, fishing what appears to be a USB stick out of his pocket. As he clicks the button, a harsh buzz overtakes Skye before her suit blocks it out – judging from Pamela and Constantine flinching, they feel it too. “It’s a jammer,” Marco explains, frustration and regret still fighting for control on his face. “You’re not gonna be able to teleport out this time.”

Pamela shows no such hesitation, swiping the jammer out of his hand and plugging it smoothly into her false Skyline. “Well, pest? Do you mean to fight, or to-”

Skye doesn’t wait for her to finish, turning on her heels and scrambling for the coffehouse’s back door. Faintly, she can hear Pamela’s curses fade behind her as she leaps onto her waiting moped and fumbles with the key.

“You know,” Kit muses over Skye’s radio, “All of these Omni guys really love the sound of their own voices, huh? What with all the monologuing.”

Skye hums in relief as the scooter takes off. The immediate threat handled, she clicks a dial on the Skyline, adjusting her specs to be a more effective driver – better senses and reaction time chief among her priorities. “I seem to recall you giving me a monologue of your own back in the bank. You know, when you were electrocuting me?”

“I still have the recording,” Alice chimes in.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, you two.” Kit grumbles into the mic. “Look, I’ve got an ambush set up for ‘em at Grant Park. Do you think they’re following you?”

A set of horns honk behind Skye. Risking a turn around to squint through the sheeting rain, she can see both Constantine and Pamela packed into a sedan just behind her, Pamela leaning out a window to draw her gun. Skye squeaks (just a bit, to her credit) and tries to put as many civvie cars as possible between her and them. “Yes, quite certain. Be there in six, if I don’t get shot first.”

“Good luck,” Alice says, and then continues hesitantly. “By the way, this might sound weird coming from me, but… for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing in there.”

Skye skids around a right turn, cursing as she finds herself on an empty one-way with no other cars to provide cover. “More that I refrained from doing any further wrong.” The gloom behind her is lit by a muzzle flash, prompting her to duck under the shot with ease. “To be perfectly blunt, I see entirely too much of myself in our friend Mr. Domini.”

Kit snorts, blowing out their microphone. In the background behind them, mechanical hums are faintly audible. “Okay, I know you say that because of the whole ‘make myself a hero’ thing, which by the way you’re handling way better than he is, but for a second it sounded like you were frustrated that you had the same taste in shows.”

“We emphatically do not have the same taste,” Skye growls, weaving through a roundabout. “He learned all the wrong lessons, and now thinks public service begins and ends at punching dissenters.”

“Oh, is that why you were short-circuiting?” As she speaks, Alice audibly clicks at her keyboard. “I thought you were just mad he was talking over you, I didn’t realize there was anything deeper there.”

"Don't get me wrong," Skye grumbles, dodging around traffic. "I don't mean to imply that one should base one's morals off of a mediocre children’s superhero show, but to miss the point that badly is nothing short of embarrassing." Her suit's enhanced hearing picks up a gunshot behind her, and her similarly enhanced reflexes allow her to swerve out of the way in time, ducking her moped down a side alley.

"I hear that," Kit says solemnly over the radio. "This is the worst case of 'Wow, Cool Robot' I've seen in my life."

"Worst case of – of what?"

"It's a meme," Alice interjects in Skye's other ear. "Here, let me send it to you-" Something blips up in the corner of Skye's visor.

"Alice, look, not that I'm ungrateful, but surely a car chase isn't the best time to be sending me images?"

"Good point," notes Kit. "I'll describe it! So, there's this guy-"

"That’s enough of that!" Skye shouts as she zips out of the alley, praying that she didn’t shake her pursuers too well. "I can look at it when this is over and done."

“Probably for the best,” Alice relents. “But the point is, this guy is like your polar opposite. Your sworn nemesis.”

Kit sighs wistfully. “You know, for a while, I was hoping I could be your sworn nemesis.”

“That right?” Alice asks without malice. “I thought you were angling for hotheaded rival.”

Skye finally laughs at that. “And here they are now, my chatty sidekick instead. Fate works in mysterious – what is THAT?!”

Dead ahead of Skye, a truck’s horn lances through the patter of rain, headlights all but blinding to Skye’s improved eyesight. After a split second, her suit adjusts, letting her clearly see the giant black truck barreling straight toward her in an illegal lane. More worrying, however, is the driver of the truck – Omni’s very own Bianca Granata, a frenzied grin splitting her face as she leans forward and floors the gas.

Skye’s more than certain that Kit or Alice has some peanut-gallery commentary to add, but whatever they say, she can’t hear it over the pounding in her ears and the blast of the truck’s horn. Her suit’s capacitors sing, letting her run the numbers in a fraction of a fraction of a second – the truck and scooter are approaching head-on, much too fast to swerve. There’s no possible way to avoid it.

Pause. That’s not quite right. There’s no possible way to go around it.

Gritting her teeth, Skye slams her belt, screaming “Jet Launch!” along with the Skyline to hype herself up. As her rockets flare to life, the speed blurring her vision yet further, she can just barely make out Bianca’s face, shocked to see her charging.

“Oh, God help us-,” Alice starts.

Through compound lenses, Skye stares down her jousting partner, counting down the distance between them. Fifty feet, now. She can see the individual raindrops impacting the truck. Forty. She can smell the truck’s exhaust from here. Thirty. Bianca’s gotten over her surprise and is back to smirking wickedly. Twenty… now.

Skye vaults over the handlebars of her moped, letting the force of her rockets carry her, rolling her wrists around the handlebars without loosening her grip. With the distance estimated to a tee, she completes the flip by planting her feet down on the hood of Bianca’s truck, shouting as she heaves the moped over her head. In one violent motion, she slams the moped down on the truck’s roof, leaping back on just in time for the still-spinning wheels to spit her, scooter and all, back onto the road.

“-she has a plan,” Alice finishes, unable to complete her comment before the stunt’s conclusion.

As soon as she has the bumping, juddering scooter under control, Skye slows down and looks behind her, not confident enough in her victory to celebrate yet. It’s only when Bianca’s truck turns too fast, starts hydroplaning and hits a tree that she allows herself a fist pump. “So much for the backup’s backup.”

Alice sighs. “Good work, but for crying out loud, stop being so reckless. I’m starting to feel like a broken record.”

“Polling the crowd, by the way,” Kit asks idly. “Do we think crashing into a tree is a good enough reason to claim they’re damaging public property?” From their slightly subdued tone, Skye can guess they’re staring at the wreck through her video feed.

“Doubtful,” Alice chimes in. “We need proof of intentional harm, and I’d bet Bianca could claim the crash was an accident.”

“I’d be a fool to bet against you on that,” Skye sighs. Having sighted Bianca stepping out of the truck, uninjured save for her pride, she sets her gaze forward. “Back to plan A it is. Grant Park, here I come.” With that, she revs back up to full speed, a streak of cyan cutting through the west coast fog.

---

 

The rest of the trip passes more or less uneventfully. According to Alice’s tracking, Blue and Pink are still on Skye’s tail, but not following closely enough to actually sight her in person. Instead, once the converstaion dies down, the remaining three or so minutes of driving give Skye some much-needed time for reflection.

To be sure, she’s handling things better than she was in her first few fights – she recalls the bundle of nerves her body felt like, even after installing the panic stabilizer. Is it a matter of experience, in that she’s been in do-or-die scenarios long enough to build up the skills to handle them? Or is it simply numbness, with her adrenaline flaring so often and so bright that it’s all been burnt out of her by this point?

Either way, it’s probably not a good thing that she’s been spending all her time either in a fight, or preparing for the next fight. In terms of her mental health, she may well have been better off taking Marco’s offer, less for any terms he offered and more to just wash her hands of the whole thing.

Actually, that’s probably untrue. If I were to sacrifice my principles in that way, it would have haunted me just as badly. I’ll just have to… to, what, keep doing what I think is right? Look how that’s working out for Marco.

With a start, Skye realizes she reached Grant Park while she philosophized. Cutting the engine, she’s careful to leave the moped in full view as she steps deeper into the park – bait for the trap. She’ll have to save the introspection for later – for now, she needs her game face. Or mask, as it were.

Kit whistles over the radio. “Rain’s clearing up, nice! That means I get to use my secret weapon after all.”

“Just remember, we’re here to disarm them.” Skye leans against a tree, stretching to kill time. “Breaking one of their Quorium samples is more valuable than roughing up both of them.”

“Okay, mom. If I’d known you were gonna be such a wet blanket, I would have kept my secret weapon a surprise.”

“Look on the bright side,” Skye muses, watching a pair of figures crunch toward her over the dewy grass. “It’ll be a surprise to them.”

“Hey,” Constantine hollers once they’re in earshot. “You know the drill by now – you can’t warp out, we don’t wanna hurt you, but if you can’t compromise then we’re gonna have to confiscate your changer.”

“You must know by now that you can’t beat both of us,” Pamela adds coolly, already clicking at her belt. “Omni Boost.” By now, Skye knows how these two operate – Pamela Boosts first, taking the offensive while Constantine provides support with his gun. The second Pamela’s Boost runs out, Constantine will use his and they’ll switch roles, with his Boost lasting exactly the minute it takes Pamela’s to recharge. Back and forth with perfect uptime, a two-on-one where one combatant will always far outstrip Skye. They stop about four paces before Skye, daring her to make the first move.

“That’s probably true,” Skye muses. “By the by, I see your suits were redesigned. I’m glad, genuinely.”

“Trust me, it’s appreciated.” Constantine sounds more than grateful, his suit now matching his own physique perfectly, as far as Skye remembers it. “I just wish we could go easy on you for it.”

“Enough fraternizing.” Pamela raises her arms. “This ends now.” She charges, closing the distance in a fraction of a second.

In a blink, something whirls out from behind the tree Skye was leaning against. Pamela is pulled to the side, grabbed and thrown by a heavy iron fist. Scrambling to her feet just in time to block a teeth-rattling punch, Pamela sizes up the interloper.

Omni Pink is built for elegance as much as strength, if not more, so this monster of a suit utterly dwarfs her. Counting the curved-back horns adorning its head, a mixture of a beast’s prongs and space-age antennae, it’s well over seven feet tall. The massive suit covers its user’s full body, chassis painted bright white with rectangular orange highlights evocative of warning labels. It hisses and whirs as it steps forward – no construct of Quorium, this armor is pure metal and mechanism.

“Hate to break it to you,” the suit’s owner laughs, “but we’re just getting started, here.”

Over the radio, Skye groans. “Your one chance to make a first impression, and you’re committing to a ‘break’ pun?” Despite her complaints, she settles into a fighting stance beside the newcomer.

“Darn right I am,” Kit replies over the secure channel with glee. “It’s my superhero alter ego, I get to pick the catchphrase.”

Constantine hauls Pamela to her feet, though Pamela waves him off as soon as she’s standing. “And who’s this, then? Another lawbreaker?”

“Oh, perish the thought!” Kit raises their hand to their heart, servos audibly whirring – nowhere near that clunky mess their first attempt sounded like. “I’m just a concerned citizen taking my power armor out for a walk, and I saw you two harassing this poor woman!”

Alice snickers. “Laying it on kind of thick, aren’t we?”

Constantine slumps his shoulders. “Look… sir?”

“Sir.”

“Sir.” Constantine nods and continues. “Look, sir, this is a private settlement – we really don’t want to get anyone else involved if we can help it.”

“It’s too late for that, I’m already well past involved!” Kit draws their weapon – a long white quarterstaff, patterned with flames along each end, telescoping out as they unholster it. “Evildoers like you will face the wrath…” They level their staff at the Omni Horizons. “Of Breaker Bright!”

Pamela and Constantine don’t respond to the name, but to Kit’s credit they do visibly tense up at the sight of the weapon.

“I still think you should have gone with Daybreak,” Alice grumbles through radio.

“And I still think you should stop backseat driving.” Kit snarks back. “Yo, Skye. May I have this dance?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Skye replies. 

“Knock ‘em dead, you two,” Alice adds. “Wait, no – ‘break’ a leg.” The three of them share a laugh at that.

Perhaps that’s why Skye’s not so on edge this time – she’s no longer fighting alone. 

In unison, Sky Horizon and Breaker Bright raise their arms to guard their faces, charging forward to meet their opposition.