Chronicles of the Exalted Sun Child

Yuriko flew about five hundred paces above the ground in a brand new cape costume. It was a form-fitting outfit, black tights, a red half skirt that fell down to just below her knees, a white button-down, and a red cropped jacket over it. She wore black gloves, a long black scarf and a motorcycle helmet with a tinted visor. Her hair was done up in a bun under the helmet it was slightly bigger than it had to be, obscuring the shape of her head. She also exaggerated her upper body features, mainly by increasing her bust size by a full cup, and her waistline and hip line by a couple of inches. She also broadened her shoulders by a tiny bit. Hopefully, her body line would be suitably obscured from her norm enough so that computers wouldn't be able to match her cape identity with her celebrity self.

The outfit took nearly a week to buy and modify discreetly, and she kept her activities secret, even from Scarlett. Tomorrow, she would go to Nordham with Zach; she was somewhat wary of what they'd find.

Graham Lowe had been out of contact, practically missing, over the past weeks, so why make contact now? Over a medium that was practically impossible to verify his identity? More to the point, Zach was adamant about meeting Lowe, even if it turned out to be a trap.

However, how sure was she that someone figured out that the cast and crew of Luvblooms were Altered? She used her Mien to obscure her tracks—nothing too overt, just a little bit that made people forget about her participation over time. Not with the Lunites, of course, but with the government.

As for why she was flying at night in costume, well, she was trying to vent her frustrations. Chief of which were the aftereffects of what she did to save Scarlett.

Her smol friend didn't remember. The last thing she knew was the day before they went to the training camp. She'd been confused about the date, and had a minor panic attack, and if not for Yuriko's Mien, she might have had a major attack instead.

"You—" Yuriko began. "Something happened during the camp." She hesitated to give the details of what went down but only for a moment. Considering she didn't remember…or were the memories repressed instead? Meaning they might return once she got triggered. Was it better for her to forget? Maybe…? But she had an awakened Anima now though it was so slight that she might not have noticed. Either way, Yuriko was averse to letting her waste her potential. Also, she was Altered even if her power wasn't obvious.

"What happened?"

"The Unfettered attacked," Yuriko said bluntly. "You and the others were captured and put into a death game."

"How…how many died?"

"Too many."

"I…" Scarlett trembled and tears leaked out of her eyes.

They didn't get to talk after that. Scarlett broke down and Yuriko wondered if it was her subconscious. Perhaps the memories weren't there, but her body—or her Anima—remembered, who knew? At that moment, she felt fragile and Yuriko didn't want to push.

They hadn't spoken of the incident since then. Scarlett had some kind of amnesia but she didn't want to get looked at either. Yuriko told her about what happened in the aftermath, including the fact that Scarlett jumped her bones. Her cheeks turned redder than her hair. Still, neither of them made another move during the week.

On the other hand, Captains Hays and Richards had not replied to any of Yuriko's messages, and when she finally tracked their addresses down, they were missing. Since most of the club members lived alone, in dormitories or apartments, nobody had really missed them. It was the second week of the new year and while classes had begun, it was an accepted practice that things would go a bit slow during that buffer. Their absence was noted by the end of the week. She didn't know what to do. They escaped the Unfettered invasion only to fall prey to the booby trap left in their heads?

Fury bubbled just beneath the surface. She had to do something. She wasn't about to go hunting them in her celebrity persona so she had to become serious with her heroic one. She had no idea where to look, but an in-depth look at records revealed that the Unfettered were just like their namesake: unreasonable, and their movements were without much pattern. The only rule, it seemed, was that theft rarely hit the same place twice. Unless, of course, when they did. Which happened several times already, actually, so why was it a general rule written in their write-ups? Useless!

So what should she do?

Well, once she got her costume, she spent evenings until just past midnight, roaming the city, on patrol. Not so much because she thought she'd find clues on where the Unfettered were, but more to alleviate boredom and to vent. That and the number of capes rose steeply over the past few weeks. Ever since legislation differentiating them from Altered Humans, anyway. A heroic cape would be perceived much better than an open Altered Human, and there seemed to be a rise in popularity of media depicting superpowered individuals, contending with each other in obvious heroic or villainous leanings.

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Over the past couple of days, Yuriko had flown over and around the city in her old disguise, though she didn't do anything other than fly. She also prevented herself from broadcasting her location by only extending her aura out by a couple of inches, more than enough hook onto the fabric of reality to maintain her position, and her Animakinesis, contained within a small area, didn't expel as much light. Enhanced Sight allowed her to see everything on the street level as if she were there; after all, the technique was used by her Da as a marksman's aide.

Widerfield Island, the centre of the city both figuratively and literally, was quite bustling. It never actually slowed down, even at night. Skyscrapers marked the district center and presumably, the commercial heart of the city. She didn't know how much wealth flowed through the concrete jungle since most of it flowed through the Network. Come nighttime, Winderfield practically turned into party central. Pubs, theaters, clubs, and other similar businesses opened their doors and the weary masses flowed out of their offices and straight into the clubs. Or at least, that's what Yuriko assumed.

She saw a couple of the new capes emerge from the city's shadows, and from how they acted, she thought they were just as new to having Altered powers as wearing an identity-concealing costume and mask, considering they didn't do anything other than train and experiment with their powers. Oh, she found the speed-punching guy, too, or someone with a similar power? He could move his limbs with extraordinary speed, though—unfortunately, only his limbs. Perhaps his torso was reinforced instead? Moving that quickly could possibly tear off a limb or pop a joint out of a socket otherwise. Ah, she didn't see him in Winderfield, but in Brookshield district. It was a rather rundown area, though she wondered why. Brookshield and Jackstone, southeast and southwest districts of the city, were on either side of where the Santana River spills out into the Prism Sea, or Prism Bay as some call it. They were both filled with docks and warehouses, but Brookshield's are just a bit more dilapidated than Jackstone's.

It could also be considered a slum, she supposed, considering how some blocks were filled with dilapidated and half-abandoned tenements. Well, the docks were smaller than Jackstone's, which was where the cargo ships from all over the continent docked. Well, the big ones anyway. Smaller ships use Brookshield.

If she remembered correctly, a few days ago, the news channel reported gang violence around Brookshield's docks?

'Oh, speak and it happens,' Yuriko thought.

A trailer truck moving a couple of containers out of the docks was suddenly stopped in its tracks. A couple of pickup trucks swerved to block the truck, forcing the driver to stomp on the brakes. Thankfully, the truck wasn't moving that quickly so there was no collision. But then, the passengers in the pickups came out carrying assault rifles. They pointed at the truck driver, one even shot a bullet up in the air. Coincidentally, it was pointed at where she was descending and she caught it before it could fall back down and hurt someone else.

The bandits were fast. They broke open the locks of the container and were unloading the goods—several boxes that were labeled 'electronics'—and were loading them onto a couple of black vans that pulled up behind the truck.

The robbery wasn't what held most of Yuriko's attention, however. It was the fact that all of the men wore identical outfits and had similar features. It wasn't as flashy as spandex, but had more of a soldierly appeal. Combat uniforms and a tactical vest, mostly. Their heads were protected by a helmet, but the visor was clear. It revealed the man's eyes and the area around it, but his nose and lower mouth were covered by a cloth mask. All of the men, nearly three dozen, were identical to each other, not just in facial features but dimensions as well. Except for one who was wearing a brown trench coat and black clothes underneath. He was playing with a deck of cards while seated on the hood of one of the pickup trucks, keeping a careful eye on the proceedings and the surroundings.

Yuriko hadn't made a move yet, just flew closer. She wasn't quite close enough to bring them under her perception aura just yet, and she had not been keen on flying faster since it would draw eyes on her. She didn't want the hassle quite yet, and the city had about five or so aerial vehicles—helicopters, they were called—criss-crossing the airspace. Nowhere near Brookshield but close enough that if she flew at a faster pace, they'd spot the trail of golden light she'd leave behind. The afterimage didn't last for more than a second, but it's what happens when she uses her kinesis to fly. If she just jumped using 'footholds' rather than under kinesis, there wouldn't be a tell, but varying velocities and accelerations were annoying in its own way.

She was about a couple of paces away, and a hundred paces up, when something else happened. The multiman bandits hadn't finished their thievery when someone else interrupted. Ah, they weren't heroic and were masked and costumed. Three people, to be exact, and they were accompanied by several men with assault rifles. They just sped around the corner, then opened fire.

The first fusillade struck the nearby clones, cutting them down. Rifle bullets went through body armour almost as if they weren't there in the first place. But no sooner than the clones fell on the asphalt did they disappear into bursts of multihued light, like fireworks, actually. Everything on them, including their own assault rifles, disappeared. Then, there was a flash of light in the middle of the remaining clines, and another one appeared from thin air, clothed and armed in the same way. The remaining clones turned on the attacking rival gang and opened fire. The assailants dove for cover, then one of their capes, a woman in a revealing, backless black dress that had most of the skirt as tendrils, stepped forward and waved imperiously.

Shadows stretched from her feet, widened about ten paces from her, then hundreds of black tentacles popped out, waving furiously and blocking the bullets shot by multiman. Then they stretched out and entangled the clones, squeezing them until they popped like prismatic soap bubbles.