“Alright, things could be worse,” Skye grunts, lifting her arms just in time to block a series of jabs from Constantine. “But we’re hardly making headway. You said you had a plan in mind?” From the sound of her voice, she’s pretty on edge, even for a fight.

“Oh, yeah, that! Don’t you worry, I have a plan.” Kit laughs, hoisting their staff in both hands like a baseball bat. “So, we’re in a sculpture garden right now, yeah?”

They stop talking for a moment, watching Pamela like a hawk as she points her handgun at them. Not trusting sight, Kit swings for the fences the moment they hear a gunshot, and the impact rattles their arms all the way up to the shoulders. Opening their eyes, they’re treated to the sight of pink glitter falling all around them, celebrating their beautiful home run. Laughing like a child, they stretch their suit’s limbs, marveling at the sense of power.

“Hello? Earth to Kit?” Alice’s voice jolts them back to the reality of the situation. “Why do we care that it’s a sculpture garden? Also, I don’t see any sculptures.”

As Pamela bears down on them, Kit points in the direction of a gilt statue of a dog. “See, there’s one waaay over there.” They pause once again, knocking Pamela back with a jab of their staff, before continuing. “And remember, if the Omnis hurt any public property, then suddenly their whole case goes up in smoke! So the plan is, we just gotta get them to hit one of those statues over there.”

Skye is silent, circling Constantine for several seconds. When she speaks up, her voice comes through flat and dry over the radio. “Kit, that’s not much of a plan.”

“Barely even a goal, really,” Alice adds. “You should have set up shop at a bigger statue that you could, like, take cover behind-”

“Okay, okay!” Kit swings their staff back and forth, warding off assault and criticism in equal measure. “Sorry, I guess I was too busy handbuilding power armor to dive too deep into city planning, that’s on me.”

“So where does that leave you two?” Alice sounds more than a bit frustrated now – well, that’s her problem. It’s not like it’d kill her to actually help out with the planning. “Back to violence as your only means of problem-solving?” Such a hater.

“More or less.” At least Skye is in their corner. As she sweeps Constantine’s legs out from under him, she elaborates. “I really don’t enjoy that this has become our fallback, but should we manage to overpower these two, then Omni will be fresh out of active field enforcers.”

Kit gets the point. “Leaving you free to go back to your volunteering patrols.”

While wrestling with Constantine, Skye inclines her helmet. “I know that it’s not exactly a selfless motivation on my part, but I genuinely do miss those simpler days.” There it is. That same assumption that ‘makes her happy’ equals ‘selfish.’ Kit ought to see about getting her a therapist once this is all over. God, maybe they could use one themselves. “Furthermore, it’s not as though we can easily escape, so the stakes are high regardless.”

“Say no more,” Kit murmurs, before switching off the private channel. “Yo, Omnis! You’re putting up a better fight than I was expecting – have you guys been working out or something?” They turn in a circle as they talk, gesturing to both Pamela and Constantine.

From behind their back, they hear a quiet “click” followed by a loud “Omni Boost.” Crap, has it already been a minute? That means Pamela-

Pamela’s fist drives into the back of Kit’s helmet, and though the recently added padding spares them from a full concussion, their head still rings long enough for her to wrap their arm behind their back in a submission hold. “You ought to talk less and pay attention more,” she growls, throwing Kit’s staff to the wayside.

Skye, winning her grapple now that Constantine has lost his Boost, flinches. “Don’t hurt them! They’re not using Quorium like we are – any injuries they sustain will stick!” That’s awful sweet of her to say, except it distracts her long enough for Constantine to wriggle out of her grip.

“I fail to see how that’s my problem,” Pamela says in mock boredom. “This is war, and in war one must exploit any weakness they can.” As she talks, she twists Kit’s arm further and further, prompting them to scream in time with their overtaxed hydraulics. “Pain is just one such weakness.”

Constantine hesitates, looking to Skye with a nervous posture. “That – that can’t be necessary. We’re just here to disable them and bring them in, aren’t we?”

As they talk, Skye stumbles away, making a mad dash for Kit’s staff. Through fading vision, Kit sees her hand clasp around it, wrapping tightly and hoisting it over her shoulder.

“We’re here to bring in Sky Horizon. If this third-stringer insists on getting in the way…” Pamela tightens her grip again, turning Kit around. “We have no obligation to play nice.”

Through their radio, Kit can barely make out something that sounds a little like “Catch,” followed shortly by something that sounds a whole lot like “Jet Punch.”

Pamela gasps, diving and tucking into a roll to evade Skye’s rocket-boosted javelin toss. Though breathing heavily, Pamela heaves a laugh as she rises to her feet. “Not a bad trick, but ultimately an empty gesture.”

Almost immediately, a length of solid steel cracks her across the helmet, sending her sprawling.

“I don’t know,” pants Kit, choking up on their staff once again. “I think it was a real heartwarming gift.” Still aching from the submission hold, they flick a switch hidden along the center shaft. “Anyway, enough warmup. I would have felt left out if everyone got to use their secret technique but me, y’know?”

Pamela hisses, stumbling back to her feet. “Knowing how you imbeciles think, you’re dying to give an explanation.” Still, she now keeps a safe distance.

“That I am! So, pop quiz – anyone here know how arc welding works?” As Kit talks, they savor the buzz of electricity running through their arms, far from the savage jolts they felt in their first suit. Thank god the insulation in their gloves is working, or else they’d be frying their fingerprints off right now.

“Oh, wait, I actually do.” Constantine sounds surprised he can contribute. “So, basically, arc welding means making an electric current to superheat the metal, by using what’s more or less an electrified… rod…” He trails off, terror in his voice. Oh, Kit couldn’t have asked for a better reaction if they tried.

“You got it!” Kit swings their staff in wide circles over their head, testing the balance of their armament. “And I’ve been waiting for a chance to ‘break’ this sucker in.” They can overhear Skye groaning at that.

“How quaint. But will it-” Pamela lunges, wrapping a hand around the haft of Kit’s weapon before shouting in pain as the current lances through her suit. Immediately, she flinches back, shaking her hand out. “Ugh. I see.”

Kit laughs, pressing the advantage with more strikes. “Yeah, you see that? The power of the sun, in the palm of my hand!” Spinning their staff around their back, they land a helicoptering blow, driving Pamela back to the edge of a hill. “And the cake on the icing is, it turns out electric shocks go through that Quorium-suit invulnerability or whatever! In other words…” They jab out with a serpent’s speed and precision, slamming Pamela in the sternum and sending her tumbling down the incline. “You don’t stand a chance!”

For a few moments, Kit just stands, watching Pamela roll down the hill, until the sounds of combat from Skye and Constantine jolt them back to reality. Skye’s holding her own pretty well… she fought Constantine before, right?

As if reading their mind, Skye’s voice crackles over the radio. “I can handle this by myself. By all means, keep Pamela pinned down.” There’s a note of something in her voice – jealousy, maybe? Well, that makes enough sense – seeing Kit pop off like this would make anyone envious.

“Will do! I’ll finish this up and then come back to help you out.” With that, Kit slides down the grassy incline, staff at the ready. This sense of power and speed is incredible – no wonder Skye likes playing the hero so much.

“Careful,” Alice calls over radio. “I’ve fought Pamela myself – she’ll try to get in your head. Don’t do anything reckless.” Oh yeah, that was when she borrowed Skye’s suit, right? They’d nearly forgotten about that.

“Sure thing,” Kit replies, “But don’t get mad if I take her out and you couldn’t. We’ll say you softened her up for me, that sound fair?” Not bothering to wait for Alice’s response, Kit hoists their quarterstaff high and readies themself to rain thunder and fury on Pamela.

---

 

“You know, not that I’m not enjoying myself,” Constantine grunts, steadying himself after a roundhouse kick, “But would you mind explaining why you’re so against compromising?”

Skye shakes out her hands, cursing at the ache in her fingers. Her joints are locking up yet again, and she wasn’t able to properly clench her fist for that last punch. “Not to sound ungrateful, but the terms Marco offered weren’t compromises – they were concessions, that would still get him everything he wanted in a less disagreeable way.”

Constantine moves back in, shouting as he shoulder-tackles Skye, shoving her to the ground and continuing as they scuffle. “So, what then? It’s gonna be all or nothing for you?”

“JET PUNCH!” Skye lands a mighty blow to Constantine’s solar plexus, forcing her way back to her feet and reversing the grapple. “Ugh. Basically, yes – I take offense to Omni’s goals on a basic level. Sorry.”

“Nah, I get it. I’ll still fight you, ‘cause it’s my job, but I get it,” says Constantine, sounding more than a bit worn down.

“Thank you for understanding,” says Skye as she wraps an arm under his chin.

“Um,” says the middle-aged man standing a few meters away from them. “What’s going on here?”

Skye, still holding Constantine in a chokehold, looks over and startles at the random citizen’s sudden appearance. “Oh, ah, hello. Personal matter.”

Constantine, growling and struggling, nods agreement. “Anything we can help you with?”

“Uh, yeah,” the man says, confusion evident on his face. “Do either of you, er, know where the western parking lot is?”

“Oh, sure.” Constantine lifts a shaky finger to point towards the edge of the park – Skye obligingly loosens her grip so he can give directions. “Right over that way, just follow the dirt trail.”

“Okay…” The passerby clearly makes a decision regarding what is and is not his business. “Thank you two. Good luck with… good luck.”

“You too!” Skye and Constantine both wave him off before grappling for dominance. With a roar, Skye forces Constantine to the ground, though her synthesized voice softens immediately after. “I know we aren’t friends, but I truly am glad to be fighting you rather than Pamela right now. You’re far more civil.”

“Hey, same here,” Constantine wheezes, struggling to get up. “No offense, but the guys you keep bringing to fights kind of scare me.”

Skye laughs at that, clear and even with the vocoder adding a bit of a buzz. “None taken! You should tell them that in person, no doubt they’d be over the moon to hear it from an opponent.”

Constantine laughs hollowly, trying to rotate his shoulder enough to hit the Boost button on his belt. “That’s assuming Pamela doesn’t take them down first.”

---

 

“Come on, Pamela, come out and play!” Kit idly spins their staff in circles as they hunt through the shrubbery. “You’re not seriously running away, are you? You’re breaking my heart here!” Despite their banter, they keep a sharp ear open, alert to any and every sound.

Sure enough, as they’re mid-sentence, Pamela lunges down on them from a tree, trying to land feet-first on their helmet. Lucky for Kit that they’ve seen that trick before – they bat her out of the air with their staff, shifting their feet to keep their balance. “Not this time, sorry! You’re welcome to try again if you want.”

Pamela, to her credit, also lands on her feet, clutching at a sizzling burn in her side. “Listen here – Bright Horizon, was it?”

“No, but that’s better. I’m actually stealing that, thanks.” Kit weaves back and forth, jabbing experimentally. “I can already see the t-shirts.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Careful to stay out of Kit’s staff’s reach, she unholsters her gun, firing several rounds.

Kit deflects them with relative ease, dodging around those shots they can’t parry with their cane. “Not really! I’m told it’s one of my good qualities, though. C’mon, aren’t you gonna psychoanalyze me for it?”

“That’s good,” Alice coaches in Kit’s ear. “Keep her on the back foot, don’t let her start talking. She’s starting to get sloppy, so this fight is yours to win.”

“You’re sounding like you’re coaching Skye on a game,” Kit laughs over the radio. “Relax, I’ve got this bagged and tagged.”

Pamela growls, falling back before activating “Omni Boost!” yet again. This time, however, Kit is ready for her. She’ll come in quick, all they have to do is swat her away with the staff-

She grabs on, electric current coursing through her body. “There’s nothing to analyze with you,” she spits. “You’re insecure, so you talk too much, and you end up believing your own bluster. End of story.” Despite the smell of burning plastic, Pamela clings tight, choking up on the staff and then wrestling it out of Kit’s grip. Flipping the staff around in her hands, she barks a guttural, triumphant laugh even as it fries her palms.

Kit stumbles forward artlessly as their stance is broken. “Wait, that’s not safe, my gloves are insulated, you really shouldn’t-”

They’re cut off by a smack to the face, forcing a pained gasp. Kit’s gloves may be insulated, but the rest of their armor isn’t – they never had the time, thanks to Marco’s letter forcing them to move up their timetable.

“Shut up!” Pamela lands several more stinging blows, driving Kit to their knees, before flinging the staff away. The gloves of her suit are visibly blackened, flickering and about to dissipate, but if Pamela notices she gives no indication, stomping towards her prey.

The edges of Kit’s vision are blurry. The suit isn’t supposed to do that, they’re pretty sure, so it’s probably a bad thing? It’ll be fine, they’re just a little punch-drunk. Maybe taking just a little breather wouldn’t hurt…

“Kit!” Alice is shouting in their ear, now. “Kit, get up! She’s gonna kill you!”

“Okay, yeah, no prob,” Kit slurs the words, stumbling to their feet. “I’ll keep her talkin’.”

Immediately, Pamela picks up where she left off before, smoothly pulling Kit into an armlock. Already, Kit can feel the pressure as Pamela pulls against their suit’s hinges.

“Listen, listen,” Kit groans deliriously. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I don’t, I don’t even know your motivation.”

“What are you talking about?” Pamela spits the words through gritted teeth, evidently disgusted at their ramblings.

“I mean, like, the other Omnis, Bianca’s whole thing is getting to throw her power around, Nigel and Con, Constantanatine were in it for the job, and Mark buys the whole superhero hype…”

Pamela says nothing, simply twisting Kit’s arm further and further.

“But, but I don’t get what your deal is, is the thing – ow, ow, ow-” Kit babbles in pain, their suit audibly straining to keep their arm safe. “What does Pamela want, is what I mean – ow.”

Pamela audibly exhales through her nose, then goes silent for a few seconds. Carefully, she releases her grip, holding Kit’s arm by the elbow. “What I want is to stop dealing with blustering windbags who won’t shut up.”

“See?” Kit wheezes. “Was that so hard? Everything gets so much easier when you start talking about your feelings. I’ll go next. I want for-”

“That includes you,” Pamela says icily. “So shut. Up.” In one motion, she raises Kit’s arm into the air and brings the elbow down viciously hard onto her knee.

Something snaps. Someone screams. Everything goes white.

---

 

Skye is hammering Constantine with speed bag punches when they hear the scream. Immediately, they both stand up straight, looking in the direction of the noise.

“Was that…” Constantine audibly gulps. “Was that your friend?”

Skye nods. “You don’t think Pamela would have…”

“I don’t know.” Constantine rolls his neck, considering something. “If she did… tell you what. You were definitely on track to finish me off, so whatever we find, once it’s handled, you can smash my changer.”

“Are you sure?” Despite her urge to downplay her ability, Skye can’t really argue – Constantine was a predictable fighter to begin with, and Skye’s gotten more than enough practice fighting suit-to-suit to put him away. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Save it.” As before, Constantine looks away, unable to handle eye contact in these sorts of situations. Still, it’s not hard to imagine him having arrived at the same conclusion Nigel did. “Let’s just pray nobody died.”

At the bottom of the hill, Skye’s worst fears are realized – Kit, still suited but lying on their face. Their right arm is bent at an angle which arms most definitely can’t safely bend at, the metal around their elbow is twisted and torn, and they’re not moving. Constantine faintly retches at the sight.

“Oh, god.” Immediately, Skye switches over to radio. “Kit. Kit, are you there?”

“I’ve called an ambulance,” Alice says, sounding distant. “Watch out.”

Sure enough, Pamela is standing a distance away, arms crossed. She registers their arrival with no words, just an incline of her mask.

“Pam, this…” Constantine is at a loss for words. “Don’t you think this is too far? When I signed up to join this team, I didn’t… I didn’t sign up to go around stalking people and breaking their arms.”

“You very much did.” Pamela’s voice is dispassionate, detached. “It’s hardly my fault you’re unwilling to uphold your promises.”

“No.” Constantine clenches his fists behind his back. “No way. I don’t buy that this is for the greater good anymore, and I’m sick of being a bystander. There has to be a better way than all of this.”

“Indeed there is. It’s to stop whining and to do as you’re told.” Pamela shakes her head, speaking as though she’s admonishing a child.

“I mean a way that doesn’t mean hurting people,” Constantine retorts. Quietly, he puts up his dukes. “I’m going to find it, even if I have to go through you.”

Pamela is silent for a second, before flatly responding, “Okay. It’s your funeral.”

At once, she clicks her belt, and an earsplitting headache cuts through Skye’s helmet, forcing her hands to the side of her head. From what she can see through pained, squinting vision, Constantine feels the same effect, all but curled up into the fetal position. It’s all Skye can do to whimper, “W-what…?”

“The jammer, obviously. It can do a whole lot more than just prevent your teleportation.” Since Constantine is closer, Pamela targets him first, savagely kicking his prone suit.

“That…” Skye metaphorically grits her teeth, forcing the words out past the sound of her booming pulse. “Is Marco even aware that you can do that?”

For the first time, Pamela properly laughs – not a vicious or triumphant laugh, but a genuine guffaw, as if Skye told a hilarious joke. “Please. You could write a book with what Marco doesn’t know about this tech.”

“I don’t understand.” Slowly, Skye shuffles towards Pamela, staying upright through sheer force of will even as wave after wave of nausea attempts to bowl her over. “Why… keep this to yourself?”

“Ugh. Is this why everyone always insists on running their mouth? Because you’re too stupid to follow along?” Pamela takes a moment away from kicking Constantine’s body. “Because it’s being wasted. This technology could rule the world, and the grandest purpose either of you simpletons can think of is making money.”

“So…” Skye groans, forcing her brain to work. Her body feels at once several sizes too tight and too loose. “You’re… double-crossing Marco?”

“That’s enough of that.” Pamela stomps over, shoving Skye onto her back with a light push. “Unlike some, I don’t feel the need to spell out my goals!” She punctuates the last word by slamming her foot into Skye’s stomach. Her body immediately takes the automatic reaction of wanting to puke, but in the suit as she is, that’s impossible – the best she can do is scream.

“Please…” Skye groans, consciousness slipping. What would Pamela do if Skye’s suit broke down? She wouldn’t go so far as to kill her… would she?

“Understand that this isn’t personal,” Pamela spits, driving her heeled boot into Skye’s side again. “I just can’t afford to leave any loose ends. Therefore-”

She’s interrupted by an iron-fisted blow to the back of the head, sending her sprawling over Skye. Standing over them both, clutching at their broken arm, looms Kit. “Get away from my partner,” they rumble.

Pamela recovers almost immediately, but just a second too late to stop Kit from tackling her, pressing down with Bright Horizon’s considerable weight. “That-” she sputters. “How are you still conscious? The jammer-”

“The jammer only works on stuff with Quorium in it, jackass.” Scooting around, they start fumbling with her belt, bad arm weighing down her torso. “There’s a lesson in there about, y’know, respecting your opponents’ strength instead of just whaling on their weaknesses, but I’m in way too much pain right now.” The white paint job around their elbow is stained red where the twisted metal digs into their skin.

“Kit,” Skye groans. “You’re hurt…”

“Yeah, and so are you, Miss Bleeding Heart.” Skye can hear grinding metal and popping gears coming from Pamela’s belt as Kit fiddles with it. “Now where is it… bingo!” All at once, as Kit rips out something from the belt, Pamela de-transforms and the horrid migraine from the jammer fades, leaving Skye’s head achy and ringing but no longer in agony.

“Skye! Kit!” Alice’s voice fizzles back to life, audibly panicked. “What happened? I lost connection there for a minute – are you okay? Please be okay.”

“We are,” Skye mumbles before remembering to speak a bit more clearly. “We are. We won. Thank you for the ambulance, Kit’s going to need it.”

Another crunch rings out – Constantine, back on his feet, no longer transformed, and crushing his changer underfoot. Upon meeting Skye’s gaze, he grins sheepishly and runs a hand through his short brown hair. “I did promise, didn’t I?”

“Cool,” Kit breathes. “I’m gonna pass out again now. Is that OK by everyone? Thanks.” With that, they slump against a tree heavily. It might take some doing to hide their armor before the ambulance arrives…

Skye’s train of thought is derailed by Pamela screaming in frustration, clawing back to her feet. “This isn’t over! The lawsuit is coming! Your time is almost up! When I’m through with you-”

“Okay, nope, that’s enough of that.” Constantine gently picks Pamela up as one would a rowdy kitten. “Sorry about that, Sky Horizon. I’ll take care of all this. C’mon, let’s get a move on…”

“No!” Pamela points at Skye. “I have something Sky Horizon needs to hear. Something very important.”

Skye groans, lying mask-down on the grass. “Not interested, thank you.”

“You should be! Didn’t you ever wonder how I got a hold of your blueprints? How we were able to reverse-engineer your tech?”

Skye doesn’t reply. Constantine and Alice, too, are silent.

Pamela fumbles to get a better view of Skye, her ponytail coming loose. “We had an informant on the inside! Your own aide, she said she was – and she handed us everything on a silver platter!” Pamela becomes visibly excited as she twists the knife, only for her face to fall as Skye doesn’t respond. “Well?”

Finally, Skye hauls herself up to a sitting position, compound eyes staring Pamela in the face. Is she audible on radio? No matter. “I don’t care. I’ve known that for a long, long time.”