Their boss had sent them off quickly. Evelyn seemed more than
agitated–she was pissed, her attention was drawn elsewhere, and she
barely looked at them before they were sent out of the safe house.
Juniper went over the dossier several times, trying to make sure she
understood what lay before her.
Their mission was clear: Get in, Beat up any goons, find evidence of a
potential plot or conspiracy, then move out. But the way the details
were phrased, unsettled her. There were several of these warehouses
scattered across the city, multiple capes would be hitting them one by
one. All displayed the same symptoms. Civilian security going missing,
surveillance feeds are cut off, and there is strange movement in and
around the building. Shipments. Unmarked at dawn, gone by midnight.
She felt that someone–at least within the confines of the
government–had known about this for a while. If the date on the report
was credible, PIA and the SCRA had been twiddling their thumbs for a
month.
She exhaled. Conspiracy and the like, it wasn’t her problem. In and
out, all she needed to do, then wait out the storm. Let the other heroes
handle it.
A fat number was stamped at the end of the header. Credited - Operation Bell Brigade. Juniper blinked.
“Hey, Annemarie, are we mercs…of a sort.”
Annemarie leaned against a rooftop door, She watched Juniper with a
smirk. They’d taken a short break as Juniper complained about hurting
legs, which wasn’t entirely true. She was just tired. She wanted to
breathe.
“Sure seems like it, doesn’t it?” Annemarie said, tilting her head.
“Well, get used to it. We’re the dirty dogs and pigs that do the nasty
work the government won’t touch.”
Juniper bit her tongue. “So... murder too?”
Annemarie broke a cruel chuckle. “Oh, don’t worry about that, yet,
only the higher-ranked OBB members do that kind of thing. You’ve met
John, right? Metal Ronin?”
Juniper nodded, recalling the man who had driven her home. He was handsome in a rugged, wild way.
“Yeah, he’s got a reputation for his kills,” Annemarie said, rolling
her shoulders. “Though to me, he just smells like cheap whiskey and
aspirational regret. A sad lonely ‘wife-less’ uncle.”
Juniper eased into the conversation as she stretched her arms only to
freeze. When her muscles, started moving on their own, rippling like
they were alive–Pulsing under her skin.
Annemarie caught her in her own fright. “Just the roids, Jun. You’ll see it today. You’ll feel it tomorrow.”
She wanted to complain, but it did start to ache a little. But she
didn’t ask to be pumped with drugs. Nobody seemed to ask her consent for
anything, whether a kiss, an abduction, or a confrontation. [Slow
regeneration.] Will keep her alive.
“So… why does the boss seem like the boss has a little sister complex?”
Annemarie’s smirk faltered. She tightened her folded arms. “She only
asks that of younger girls,” she said, tone more cautious. “I-It’s not
my place to talk about, something happened in her past. But... she
might be a sociopathic bitch sometimes, yeah. Still, she got me out of a
bad place.”
Juniper glanced at her, and an amusing thought came to mind.“You went
as straight as a schoolgirl the moment you heard her boots clicking our
way.”
Annemarie’s face turned cherry red, and she turned away with a huff.
“I wasn’t the only one. You do the whole ‘you say jump, I say how high’
act just as much. Show a little backbone will you prude.”
Juniper’s lips curled. “Are you scared of her?” she teased.
Annemarie’s expression darkened, her face shutting off like a locked door. “Let’s… drop the subject.”
Juniper hesitated. Did she step too far?
Annemarie jumped off the wall. “Are you ready to move? We can’t sit
out here all day unless—” she grinned, tilting her head, lips pursed
mockingly. “You wanna play a game~?”
Juniper wrinkled her nose, scoffing. “Let’s just go.”
[Inappropriate relations on the job can boost morale but are not the most optimal way to complete a mission.???? ? ????] Sys-chan advised.
Juniper groaned internally. ‘Why are you telling me this? I would never!’
As she cursed her mental headmate, she caught Annemarie watching her face with curiosity.
Bigger things were looming, and they needed moving.
The warehouse was a few blocks away from the harbor, the silence
around the place was eerie. Even from a distance, something felt off.
She strained herself. [Super audition] filtering out everything from
afar. She heard vermin scurrying on the ground, metal groaning under the
heavy wind– but something rhythmic bothered her, like a leaking gas
tank.
[Dum dum dum! That warehouse is definitely haunted! Spooky murder ghosts confirmed. ]
Ghosts weren’t something Juniper believed in, but it did unnerve her occasionally, the threat of being haunted.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Get a grip,” she muttered.
Annemarie shot her a look. “What?”
“Uhh, nothing. Just… imagining things.”
“riiiggghhht.”
[Imagining me? How flattering. But also, you did let it slip once that you''ve got a voice in your head. You could tell her outright, but... that might get you a one-way ticket to the crazy school. Or an invitation to her bed.]
No. None of that. She had no intention of getting locked up in a psych ward or chasing Annemarie like a buck in heat.
Annemarie’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Well? Did you hear anything? I know those big ears of yours can do a lot of things.”
Juniper turned furious. “I do not have big ears!”
“You totally do. It’s okay, it’s cute.”
She groaned, rubbing her temples. Annemarie was Hopeless.
They climbed down from their scouting perimeter, boots hitting the
cracked ground below. A burnt stench immediately hit them, thick and
clinging. Like bodies had been burned here recently. The odor came with
something else, she could only pick up as they moved closer, humming
underground.
Annemarie stiffened beside her.. “Let’s make this quick.”
Slipping through a scattered classroom proved very easy. The sun was
showing its skin just slightly overhead, giving her direct access to any
output she required. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.
A stray and innocent thought crept into Juniper’s mind. Effy would be home soon. Safe. Innocent. Childlike, Untouched by this horrible world.
She chased the thought away. As Annemarie stood next to her under the gleam of the sun, she realized that strangely– Annemarie was the closest thing she had to a partner. They had met under hostile terms, kissed under hostile terms, and bled under hostile terms.
And yet.
Juniper shook her head. It would be dumb to get attached to crazy people.
“Hey. Focus," Annemarie advised. Strangely she was very attentive.
The warehouse was an industrial mess–welding machines, bolt cutters,
modular pre-fab stations. Half-disassembled robotic arms jutted out from
the wreckage like broken limbs. The tension in the air was wrong, they
were being watched.
A knocking sound echoed in her ears. No rhythm, no pattern. Just a deliberate, sporadic tap… tap… tap…
“We’re not alone,” Juniper stated.
Annemarie’s shifted. Her playful arrogance disappeared, replaced with something cold and controlled.
She was on guard.
Annemarie’s fingers twitched, she looked like she was hesitating.
Juniper saw what she was standing to look at–scattered notes,
crumpled and even stained with someone’s dried blood. The words were
scribbled like an assault, on multiple pages.
PURIFICATION.
ASCENSION.
TO PURGE.
“What the fuck,” she whispered.
Annemarie pulled her closer. “Better get used to it.”
Juniper stared at her. The way her eyes gazed at the flickering
scorched patches of ground near the north end, she focused on the
intention of the words. Did it affect her in some way? Was she scared?
What was Juniper missing?
“...Alright,” Annemarie whispered to herself.
Juniper took another step, her boots landing on torn paper. A
blueprint, half cut apart, half legible. Math was scrawled across the
page—schematics detailing fuel compositions and safety protocols.
Instructions on heat tolerances. Fuel types to use and avoid.
They were weapon schematics, for flaming and explosive devices.
Cape-tech. Highly illegal unless sanctioned.
She barely had time to process before her ears picked up movement.
Footsteps lingered, in the dozens, at all sides.
Boxes moved. Metal started scrapping and the shadows shifted from the walls.
“They’re coming at us. All sides.” Her pulse throbbed, her mind racing.
Annemarie briefly nodded, then summoned a gravitational field. Shot
in the air, rippling and distorting the air, bending it. Something
Juniper had barely started to grasp. Anne moved deadlier, faster.
The attackers appeared, wild and crazed. They resembled a group of
workers, clad in workspace makeshift rust armor, their eyes were hollow
and jittery, and they moved like a horde of goblins.
[Look at their faces.--They’ve been chemically altered in some way.]
A surprise took Juniper from above, as a massive barrel was hurled
her way. She barely registered it, but her supernatural instincts
reacted. She sent out an energy beam out of her hands, firing. The beam
struck it mid-air, making the barrel explode, sending two bodies flying,
flames raged at the steel framework above.
[Firefight mode activated! You totally made that bastard go boom! 10/10]
“I don’t want to think about it,” Juniper muttered, throat tight.
Annemarie moved in a fluid motion. She hit the first man like a
wrecking ball, the second a knee into his face. The third landed on the
ground after being kicked over the chess, a pile of broken crates,
saving the fall of his head.
Their manly screams made Juniper wince.
One feral man, snarled in a guttural sense, snapping her back to
reality. He charged at her, movements erratic. He hurled a massive
metal pipe at her head. She flinched, raising her arms.
[Iron Drive] activated.
The metal struck her forearm but barely made an inch of a dent. Pain
stung her limbs, but it was distant, numbed by the reinforcement
coursing through her body. She amped up, her fist narrowing, the weight
of her own strength warping in real-time, and she blasted the man
backward with a concussive punch to the gut. He slammed into a rusted
workbench and went limp.
[Iron Drive Level 1 > 2]
She had no time to rest. More of them were closing in.
An explosion rocked near Annemarie’s location, smoke filled the air.
Juniper ignored it, focusing on punishing the attacker in front of her,
She did her best to kick. The blow she delivered was far more efficient.
The man fell to the ground.
She could’ve gone further. Be more sadistic, it would be easy but she let it go.
Sudden smoke came to life. Then it ignited around Annemarie.
“Aaaah!!!” Her scream tore through the building. The fire was hard to maintain, it sent her crashing against a wall.
Juniper moved without thinking. She snapped, accelerating, tackling
Annemarie out of the burning flames. Just before a second firebomb had
crashed where she lay. The heat licked her on the back, but the suit
kept going.
Annemarie gasped, dazed. Her hands trembled as she pushed herself upwards.
Juniper hauled her to her feet, scanning the remaining enemies. Just about half a dozen left. A nasty idea bloomed in her mind.
“They’re lined up perfectly,” she murmured. “Annemarie, bring the gravity down. On them.”
Annemarie hesitated. “Why—”
“Trust me.”
Annemarie''s power flared, it dwarfed her own, the air distorting. The
goons fell to the ground dragging themselves like the undead.
Juniper followed, channeling her own field, doubling the length of
the punishment. Their bodies hit the floor swiftly, head against
concrete.
Annemarie’s breath hitched. “Wait, Juniper—that’s a surefire way to kill them..”
Only two managed to struggle back to their feet. The rest lay unmoving.
Annemarie lunged at the standing two, driving her elbow into one’s jaw and flipping the other over her shoulder.
Her eyes flickered over her in admiration, she moved so fluidly. Unlike
Juniper, who had to invoke her power onto her body, Annemarie let the
power integrate seamlessly into her form. It wasn’t about creating a
field—it was about amplifying herself. Every action was precise,
intentional, and effortless.
It was a great display of art.
The fight was over.
The pair stood there, breathing hard, wiping sweat away, surrounded by lots of unconscious middle-aged men.
Annemarie’s face shifted. Her strange look returned to her face.
There was a sign of something raw in her eyes. She stared at the juniper
like a lost dog. Vulnerable. Wanting.
Juniper became suddenly uneasy.
“You’ve gotten so much better, Juniper.”
“Yeah?” she mumbled. Turning her head away from Annemarie’s gaze. Her
look was somewhere between fascination and an unreadable thing. It
made her skin prickle.
Juniper whilst moving one of the alluded middle-aged men. She
accidentally stepped over someone barely unconscious. He groaned, she
stared at the man she blew up the barrel with.
She swallowed hard, he was still breathing.
Good.
“Annemarie… what happens if I accidentally kill someone?”
Annemarie blinked, straightening. “If it’s a civilian, you’ll
probably do some time. If it’s a criminal or a hostile cape…” She tilted
her head. “Depends. Could get praise, could get a slap on the wrist—bar
you’re registered, which you are now, I guess.”
Juniper nodded, relieved She didn’t like how easily Annemarie answered that. Didn’t like how casual it all felt.
They pushed forward towards the building, reaching the far end where a
passage led underground. Thick slabs of crude concrete barricaded the
entrance as if someone had tried to seal it off in a hurry. It stretched
into the abyss, a tunnel choked in its own darkness.
Annemarie pressed a finger to her comm. “Big Sis, we’re done here.
Not much to see—manuscripts, blueprints, a bunch of crazies, and a
weird-ass tunnel. Might be worth—”
“No.” Evelyn’s voice cut through the line, sharp. “You did your job.
I’ll inform SCRA. Hold out until they arrive. Report back to base
afterward.”
The comm buzzed out.
Annemarie groaned. “She never lets me do anything. I bet if we just push past the concrete, we’d get to the bottom of this—”
Juniper sighed. “Hey, It’s not like I want to be here.”
The SCRA didn’t take long to arrive.
Vans crashed through the building, flooding the space with the sudden
deployment of armored soldiers. The rifles locked on the pile of
maniacs. The room was swept clear with complete transparency.
The tip of a barrel barely turned toward her, but she could feel her body uncoiled.
[Ooooh! The special suits are here! Look at ‘em go, all tactical and dramatic. Love the entrance.]
A familiar figure stepped out of the convoy. Captain Lock.
Juniper recognized him on the spot. The bastard in charge of the bank
interception operation. The one who could’ve prevented her from getting
shot three times if he had just listened to her.
“Voidwaltzer,” he greeted Annemarie with a nod. “Staying out of trouble, I hope.”
"no, She replied.
Then his gaze shifted. Settled on Juniper. His brow furrowed slightly, trying to place her.
“And you… are you new?”
Juniper didn’t answer. When his eyes finally lit with recognition, she felt disgusted.
“You… The girl with the balaclava,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?”
She stiffened. Her curls brushed her cheek as she turned slightly away, a subtle retreat.
Evelyn’s voice cut through her phone. “You girls stopped moving. SCRA’s there. Problem?”
“No problem,” Juniper said quickly, hoping to dismiss any potential conflict.
“Then move.”
Lock hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say something—like
something was clawing at the back of his throat, demanding release. But
he held back.
Juniper’s fingers curled into fists. If he had just listened to her
that day, she wouldn’t have bled out on the cold pavement. Wouldn’t
have been riddled with bullets.
Annemarie tugged at her wrist. “C’mon, Mimicry.”
They turned.
Lock reached out. Just barely.
Juniper didn’t look back.
She had more important things to worry about.