Kasumi Yamaguchi, known as ‘Cobra’ in the shadowed corners of the slums, watched with an impassive gaze as the small crew of hired men worked tirelessly in the makeshift lab. The old warehouse had once been used as storage for some mid-tier gang, but was now home to something new: a small-scale chemical refinery, dedicated to producing Shiver.

Along one wall were rows upon rows of metallic vats and centrifuges, containing all sorts of chemicals, powders, and other ingredients needed to produce the drug. A constant, droning hum filled the room as the machines labored away, mixing and separating the compounds into usable products. A bank of computers lined the opposite wall, constantly monitoring the progress of the various processes, ensuring that the equipment functioned properly and the output met the specifications.

The only light in the room came from the overhead fixtures and the illuminated dials and displays of the machinery. The glow of the neon signs outside filtered in through cracks in the boarded-up windows, creating eerie, dancing shadows in the darkened interior.

The men, mostly transients from beyond the Metropolis and the slums, toiled in the gloomy conditions without complaint. They wore safety masks and goggles as they handled the various chemicals, working with practiced efficiency, overseen by the hulking form of Vaughn. Occasionally, a plume of colorful smoke would escape one of the vats, filling the room with acrid, unpleasant odors.

If that happened, one of the workers would promptly shut off the machine and dispose of the contaminated material, while the rest continued with their tasks.

In the middle of the room stood a table where the completed Shiver serum was refined and packaged for distribution. A single chemist monitored the process, double-checking the computer readings and occasionally adjusting the settings on the machines to achieve the desired results. Beside him, a conveyor belt carried finished syringes out of the vat of freshly processed fluid, depositing them into a bin, before sending the next batch through.

Every now and then, the chemist would retrieve a syringe, inspect it to make sure it was satisfactory, and set it aside. Once a sufficient quantity had accumulated, he would hand the batch off to a courier, who would then deliver the product to the Neon Vipers.

As for Kasumi, she remained hidden in the shadows, her presence known only to those directly involved with the production. She wore a mask and hoodie, obscuring her identity from the others.

It was better for her to maintain a degree of separation from the Mad Chemist and his operation. After all, the man’s business practices were infamous, and she wanted nothing to do with his reputation. While he might be the one with the brains behind the operation, she was the one with the brawn—the muscle to back it up.

If there was one thing Kasumi excelled at, it was keeping her promises. She had agreed to help the Mad Chemist in exchange for resources and a cut of the profits, and she intended to honor her word. As far as she was concerned, their partnership was purely transactional—nothing more, nothing less. And if he broke their deal, she would find him and kill him without hesitation.

Well, finding him would be the main issue. She knew that his lair was somewhere in the Metropolis, but since her exile, she hadn't dared to re-enter the city.

Still, he did come to the slums to check on the project, but those visits were infrequent and sporadic. Whenever she saw him, he kept his distance, accompanied by a pair of burly bodyguards draped in thick trenchcoats.

For now, the two seemed to be cooperating well, which pleased her. After all, she had no interest in stirring up unnecessary conflict. At the end of the day, she valued stability over anything else, especially with her gang being in shambles from Axion's interference.

As she observed, Vaughn approached her, offering a respectful salute. "The production's going smoothly," he remarked, his eyes surveying the scene.

Kasumi’s lips curled into a thin smile. "Seems like it," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of disdain. "Hired hands from outside the slums...desperate enough to not ask questions."

Vaughn nodded, leaning against a nearby table. "Doesn't it strike you as a little strange that the Mad Chemist trusts them? Even with our supervision, there's still a chance that they'd cut a few corners or mix the wrong chemicals to skim the excess."

Kasumi stared at the rows of machines and workers, a cold sneer on her lips. "There's a reason why he chooses these people for the job," she murmured. "The quality of the product isn't in question. These men are disposable, easily replaceable. They're not connected to any gangs or factions within the slums, so even if they were to betray him or escape, they wouldn't have anywhere to run."

"That's awfully risky, though," Vaughn remarked, raising an eyebrow. "It's not like we've got an endless supply of mooks like this, ya know? Sooner or later, they'll be gone, and he'll need to recruit more people again, maybe even from within the slums this time."

Kasumi cocked her head to one side, shrugging slightly. "So what? He's probably got contacts in the underworld, and he can always bring in fresh meat from elsewhere. Besides, I know a few of them are from the metropolis, or at least from other cities."

"You mean like him?" Vaughn gestured towards a balding man who stood hunched over the table, measuring liquids and adding them into a vat. He appeared to be in his late 40s or early 50s, and his eyes were sunken and dark, giving his features a haggard appearance.

Kasumi raised her chin, narrowing her eyes in distaste as she gazed at the man. "Yes," she answered, her tone becoming brusque. "I think that one's a deadbeat chemist who lost everything in the metropolis. Probably got scouted or blackmailed into the job."

"Poor sap," Vaughn commented with a chuckle.

Kasumi crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers tapping idly on her elbow. "We're all screwed in our own ways," she muttered. "And as long as he does his job and keeps quiet, he gets paid, so he has nothing to complain about. Compared to the usual rabble we have to deal with, these guys are preferable."

Vaughn shrugged casually. "True that. Still, can't shake the feeling that something's off. I just don't see why he's making and distributing a drug like that here of all places. It ain't to get even more rich, that's for sure. We're practically selling 'em as cheap as cannabis."

Kasumi tilted her head and smiled wryly. "Who cares? It's his money to waste. Besides, it's none of our business what his motivations are. He pays us to do the dirty work, and that's what we do. Simple as that. Once the product is in circulation, and we get our payment, that's when we move on."

"Heh. Fine by me." Vaughn stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Boss, about that girl, the Super. Axion. The bounty still hasn't been claimed yet. I heard a lot of gangs are still out on the hunt but no one's caught her. Even those Carnage Collective nutjobs couldn't do jack shit. Seems like the girl's a damn slippery one."

"Tch," she scoffed. "Yeah, figures. No surprise there."

She lifted her eyes to the ceiling and sighed loudly. Her mind raced, searching for the best way to respond. She didn't want to admit that the girl's power and skills impressed her, nor that her defeat by the Super's hands stung more than a little. After all, she prided herself on her unmatched agility and speed.

Well, unmatched by human standards anyway.

But Metas just had to exist. Those freaks were something else entirely. The difference between a regular human and a Metahuman was like comparing a housecat to a Bengal tiger—and that wasn't even taking into account whatever power they had.

Kasumi clicked her tongue and pushed herself off the wall with one foot. Her boots thumped as they hit the ground, the sound reverberating throughout the chamber.

She paced back and forth along the perimeter of the room, running a hand through her jet black hair as she contemplated Vaughn's statement. Truthfully, she did want to take another stab at the Super girl, but she wasn't convinced that the Neon Vipers could succeed, not in their current condition.

Besides, Axion had humiliated her once already, and she didn't want to risk a repeat. If they ever crossed paths again, she wanted to ensure victory—total and utter domination. She wanted the Super's defeat to be so absolute and decisive that no doubt would remain.

"Whatever the Doc has in mind for her, I want no part of it. I'll let her enjoy her freedom for now. She's not worth wasting any more effort on." Kasumi paused briefly, glancing in Vaughn's direction. "At least, not right now."

Vaughn's eyebrows rose slightly, but he nodded his understanding. "Ah, I see. Well, it's your call. Personally, I'd love to take a crack at that bitch again, but I get where you're coming from. Just saying, once she's taken care of, we'll be sitting pretty nice for a while." He flashed a toothy grin, nudging Kasumi's arm. "Right? Getting back to our roots. That's all we want, ain't it?"

Kasumi frowned. "Sure, but I'd rather avoid getting into the crosshairs of other big gangs while we rebuild the gang. Another turf war's the last thing we need. There's nothing wrong with being smart about this. There's no rush, Vaughn. We'll get there eventually."

The grin on Vaughn's face faltered. "Ah, alright, sure," he conceded, though his tone indicated that he was still displeased. "Not my fault I've been bored lately. At least we finally managed to oust the Neon Knights, and the other gangs haven't tried anything yet. I kinda miss the action, ya know?"

Their conversation was interrupted as one of Kasumi’s men burst into the room, his breath ragged and his face pale. "Cobra! Boss! There’s trouble. A gang’s been snooping around the premises. Looks like they’re casing the joint."

Kasumi glared at Vaughn, her mouth twisting in a fierce scowl. "You just had to jinx us, didn't you?"

His shoulders sagged, his face a mixture of exasperation and annoyance. "Oi, it ain't my fault the other gangs suddenly started acting ballsier, but yeah, sorry, boss."

She glanced at her underling. "What gang is it?"

"The Echo Syndicate, ma'am."

Kasumi hissed between her teeth, her fists clenching tight.

The Echo Syndicate—one of the four major gangs within the slums.

It was unavoidable that she'd eventually butt heads with them again, but she had hoped to keep things civil until the distribution of Shiver had concluded.

They were the biggest distributors of drugs in the slums—particularly heroin and meth—so naturally, their interests intersected with the Neon Vipers. Normally, they coexisted in a tenuous peace, neither actively antagonizing each other unless the other infringed upon their territory or made a bold move to expand their operations.

The problem was that Shiver had the potential to seriously damage their drug trade, so they weren't likely to sit idle and do nothing.

Kasumi shook her head slowly, the movement causing the loose strands of hair beneath her hood to sway gently. "Do they know that we're here?"

"We're not sure. Probably not. Otherwise, they wouldn't have sent a small group."

She brushed past him, striding swiftly towards the exit. "I'll deal with them myself. Vaughn, you handle things here. Make sure the production continues uninterrupted, and that no one gets the bright idea of escaping with the knowledge of our operation. If that happens, shoot them dead. You can leave the corpses out for the Pallbearers."

Kasumi pulled her mask over her face and adjusted the fit of the hoodie over her head, tugging it into place.

The echo of Vaughn's booming laughter followed her as she marched out the door, "Leave it to me, Cobra. Have fun!"

---

Kasumi's shadow cut a slender path through the dim alleyways that bordered the facility. She ghosted around the edge of the building, her footsteps muffled by the detritus of the slums. She kept low to the ground, her head and shoulders barely visible over the top of a pile of debris. The rain drummed on the rusted sheet metal roof above her as she crouched in the shadows.

Through a gap in the stacked trash, she spotted the gang of Echo Syndicate thugs. Thirteen of them stood huddled together in the murky, wet street. Pipe pistols and rifles glinted dully in their hands, while others brandished knives and hatchets. Their faces were hidden under heavy scarves, and the ponchos they wore concealed the shape of their bodies, making it difficult to gauge how heavily armed they might be.

They murmured amongst themselves in hushed whispers, their voices almost drowned out by the rain, but Kasumi could catch a few words here and there.

"What the hell you think they're up to?"

"Must be somethin' valuable in there."

"Think we should just go in guns blazing?"

"Nah, the boss said to report back. We can come back with more guys and smoke 'em all."

"I dunno, man, they could be packing."

"Forget it, let's get outta here. We're treading on cracked glass."

Kasumi smirked to herself as she listened. What fools. They clearly had no idea they'd already been discovered.

As Kasumi rose to her feet, a faint metallic click echoed in the silence. She flexed her fingers, causing the intricate network of cables and wires embedded in her gloves to shimmer faintly in the darkness.

Her boots thudded heavily against the concrete as she sprinted towards the Echo Syndicate thugs. With a sharp jerk of her wrists, the nanowire dispenser hissed as the filaments shot out, unspooling rapidly.

The first thug barely had time to register the threat before the wires wrapped around his neck.

Kasumi gave a vicious yank, and the man's head tumbled from his shoulders. Blood gushed from the stump, spurting across the cracked pavement in a crimson spray as the lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

"Fuck! It's Cobra! She's here!" someone screamed in alarm.

Gunfire erupted from the group of gang members, the rounds ricocheting off the walls around Kasumi. She rolled out of the way as several bullets whistled past, splattering against the brickwork behind her. She leapt into the air, landing behind one of the thugs. Her knee smashed into the man's skull, sending him flying.

He slammed into the ground with a sickening crunch, and Kasumi followed with a swift stomp to the throat. Bone crunched and squelched beneath her heel, and the thug let out a brief gurgle before falling silent.

Without slowing down, Kasumi whirled around, the nanowires snapping and popping as she spun them into a shield. The bullets bounced off the web of filaments, creating a shower of sparks and pulverized lead.

She ducked and weaved through the hail of gunfire, closing the distance between her and the closest thug.

He swung a knife at her, but Kasumi leaned back, avoiding the slash, and flicked her wrist, sending her wires coiling around the man's arms. With a savage twist, she yanked the limbs off, leaving the man shrieking and writhing in the alley.

Another thug charged at her with a hatchet, but she sidestepped his attack and struck him in the jaw with the heel of her boot. He staggered, and she kicked him in the groin, sending him to his knees. Before he could react, she whipped the wires around his neck and sliced his head clean off.

As the body toppled, Kasumi advanced, using the dead man as a human shield. Bullets thudded into the corpse, and Kasumi vaulted over the body, using the nanowires to propel herself into the air.

She landed on the shoulders of a thug, wrapping her legs around his head and flipping him to the ground. A thin blade flicked out of the toe of her boot, and she stabbed down, driving the tip into the back of the man's neck. He twitched and shuddered, a garbled cry of pain escaping his lips, before he lay still.

More shots rang out as the remaining thugs fired wildly. She twisted and turned, deflecting the bullets as she waded into the fray. Her hands moved with precision, her fingers twitching as she controlled the movements of her wires. The filaments flashed through the air, slicing and slicing.

Limbs, guts, and blood sprayed everywhere.

Bodies dropped to the ground, staining the grimy pavement red. In seconds, the last of the thugs fell. The only survivor, a man dressed in a yellow poncho, dropped to his knees, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Please, please, please, spare me, Cobra." The man trembled and whimpered, his face a mask of pure terror. His eyes darted around the carnage surrounding him. "I'm begging you. I've got kids, a family. Please don't kill me. I'll do anything!"

Kasumi surveyed the bloody aftermath of the skirmish, watching the bodies twitch and squirm in their death throes. The coppery scent of spilled blood lingered in the air.

The nanowires buzzed quietly as they retracted back into her gloves' housing units, and Kasumi's fingers relaxed. She inhaled deeply through her nose, savoring the adrenaline rushing through her veins, before turning her attention back to the frightened thug.

As the rain soaked into her clothes and ran down her skin, she sauntered over to him.

The thug continued to babble. He stammered and blubbered incoherently, tears streaming from his eyes.

Kasumi stopped in front of him, looming over his kneeling form. She grasped his face in her hand, tilting his head to the side. Her thumb brushed his cheek, smearing the drops of water across his pale flesh.

"Why should I?" she asked, her voice low and icy. She pulled his ear closer to her lips, speaking with deliberate slowness. "Tell me why I shouldn't gut you like a fish."

He choked out a sob. "I can't, I can't...please don't." He swallowed hard, a shudder passing through his body as he gasped for breath. "I'll do anything...I swear, I'll do whatever you want, just please, I'll do anything. I'll do anything."

Kasumi remained silent for a long moment. Then she released her grip and stepped back. She placed her hands on her hips, regarding him with a cold glare. Her lips curved into a smirk beneath her mask.

"Anything, eh?" she said. "Alright, listen closely. Go back to your boss and tell him that Axion killed your friends as a warning."

The thug nodded vigorously, clutching his hands together. "Yeah, yeah, Axion killed them."

She suddenly reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling him close. She leaned in, her eyes narrowed, her lips curled back in a snarl. "If I find out didn't pass the message on—and I will find out—I'll find your family and torture them in front of you before cutting your dick off and forcing you to eat it. Got it?"

He winced, squeezing his eyes shut. "G-got it! I understand! I'll do it!"

"Good." Kasumi released her grasp on his scalp, sending the man sprawling backwards onto the muddy ground. "Now scram. I better not see you again."

The thug scrambled away on his hands and knees, slipping in the mud before hauling himself upright and darting out of sight.

After a brief pause, she turned around and headed back towards the facility. She didn't need to follow him; he would do exactly what she ordered him to do. Fear ensured that.

The name of Axion had been thrown into the ring, and Kasumi fully intended to use that to her advantage. With any luck, that would scare away other gangs and factions for now.

The Super's notoriety and influence could be useful after all.

---