The early May sun bathed New York City in a soft, golden glow. Trees along the streets were blossoming with new leaves, and a cool breeze swept through, carrying the sounds of a bustling metropolis. People were out enjoying the mild weather, and the city was alive with its usual hum of activity. But beneath the surface, tensions were simmering. News of superhumans was spreading like wildfire, with the newly established Superhuman Registration Agency (SRA) making headlines. Panic and excitement intertwined as the world tried to grapple with this sudden and overwhelming change.
Cal stood on a rooftop, watching the city from above. It had been a few days since he, Ryan, and Amber had discussed their abilities in depth, laying out strengths and weaknesses in an attempt to function better as a team. He had thought long and hard about their suggestions to go public, to reveal themselves as a unit and become a symbol for the city.
He felt conflicted. The idea of being a hero in the public eye, of becoming a symbol, made him uncomfortable. It felt wrong, like taking advantage of his powers for glory. He couldn't shake the thought that it would lead him down a dangerous path. And yet, Amber's point about protecting themselves from the government lingered in his mind. If they were to become public figures, it could shield them from the SRA's tightening grip. But for now, he remained undecided.
Suddenly, a loud explosion shattered his thoughts. A fireball erupted near the business district, sending plumes of smoke into the sky. Cal's heart leapt into his throat. Without a second thought, he took off, sprinting across the rooftops. He leaped across streets with ease, his superhuman strength propelling him great distances as he raced towards the scene.
The closer he got, the louder the chaos became. Sirens wailed as police and emergency vehicles converged on the site. Cal spotted the bank, its windows blown out and smoke billowing from within. The police had already set up a perimeter, officers holding their weapons at the ready. He landed silently behind them, drawing a few startled glances.
"Hold it right there!" an officer shouted, raising his gun. "You're under arrest!"
Cal raised his hands, palms out. "I'm here to help. What's the situation?"
The officer hesitated, then looked to his partner, who was staring at the burning building with a mix of fear and frustration. "Bank robbery gone wrong. There's at least one superhuman in there, maybe more. They've taken hostages and demanded a private plane to get out of the country. They're giving us an hour before they start killing people."
"SWAT's en route, but they've got other crises tying up units," another officer muttered. "This was a coordinated attack. They planned this."
"We don't have a protocol for dealing with this kind of situation," a third officer interjected. "Superhumans, hostages—it's a mess. We're outmatched."
Cal nodded. "Exactly. I'm your best shot. This isn't about jobs or protocol, it's about saving lives."
The lead officer's eyes narrowed. "You do this, and it's on you. Don't expect to just walk away after."
"Noted," Cal replied, already turning towards the building.
Another officer, one who looked older and more seasoned, glanced at Cal's tattered outfit and laughed despite the tension. "Hey, 'Undead Man,' you might want to get a new costume if you're going to keep doing this. You look like a super hobo."
Cal couldn't help but crack a smile. His outfit—a black coat, mask, and gloves—had seen better days. It was hard to keep a consistent look when his clothes kept getting shredded or burnt.
"Noted," he said again, his smile fading as he focused on the task at hand. He pulled out his phone, quickly dialing Ryan. The call connected on the first ring.
"Where are you?" Cal asked.
"Two blocks away," Ryan replied. "I saw the smoke. Heading over now."
"Meet on the second story of the bank near 149th in Lower Brooklyn. We've got hostages, and at least one superhuman inside. We need to be quick."
"On it," Ryan said, and the line went dead.
Cal glanced around, then took a running start and leaped up, grabbing onto the edge of a second-story window. He swung himself inside, landing silently in what appeared to be an office space. It was eerily quiet, the sounds of the chaos outside muffled by the thick walls. He moved cautiously, ears straining for any hint of movement.
Moments later, Ryan arrived, carrying Amber on his back. He dropped through the same window, setting her down gently. She brushed herself off, looking around with wide eyes.
"What's the plan?" Ryan asked, his voice hushed.
Cal looked around the empty office, his mind racing. "We need to get the hostages out safely and take these guys down fast. At least one of them has flame abilities, maybe more."
Ryan nodded, then glanced down at the main floor below. "I could go down and distract them. Get their attention while you two get the hostages out."
Amber shook her head immediately. "No, I'll go. I can make myself look harmless—just another terrified office worker."
"Are you crazy?" Ryan asked, his eyes wide. "They would eat you alive. Besides, what if they get suspicious? One wrong move and you're toast in a literal sense."
Cal's jaw tightened. "He's right. It's too dangerous."
Amber took a deep breath, meeting both of their gazes with determination. "I'm part of this team too, remember? I'm the best option, I can get close without raising suspicion. You two need to be ready as I give the signal."
"But—" Ryan started, but Amber cut him off.
"I can handle this," she said firmly. "I can make one of them hallucinate and buy us some time. Just be ready."
There was a tense silence. Cal and Ryan exchanged a glance, then reluctantly nodded.
"Alright," Cal said. "But if anything goes wrong, we're coming in."
Amber smiled faintly. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Ryan gave her a mock salute. "Good luck, Miss Intern."
Cal shook his head, trying to focus. "Let's move."
Amber took a deep breath, adjusting her disheveled appearance. Then she stepped out into the chaos, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Please! I'm just an intern!" she cried, stumbling into the open area, her voice trembling with fear. "I-I didn't know what to do, so I hid! Please, don't hurt me!"
One of the men turned, his eyes narrowing as he took in her appearance. "Who the hell are you?"
"I-I'm nobody," Amber stammered, clutching her arms as if to keep from shaking. "I just work here. Please, don't hurt me."
The man sneered, grabbing her arm roughly. "Get over with the others."
Amber let herself be dragged towards the hostages, her mind racing. She had to time this right. As they reached the huddled group of civilians, she reached out with her mind, brushing against the man's thoughts and planting a hallucination.
The man's eyes widened in horror as his vision warped. He looked around, seeing his own teammates transformed into grotesque demons. He stumbled back, raising his gun.
"What the fuck? What the hell is this?" he shouted, his voice shaking.
"Hey, calm down, man!" one of the other criminals said, stepping forward.
"Stay back!" the hallucinating man screamed, aiming his gun at his own partner. "Stay the hell away from me!"
Amber signaled telepathically. Cal crashed through the ceiling, landing between the men and the hostages. In a blur of movement, he grabbed one of the criminals and slammed him into the concrete floor, knocking him out instantly.
Amber sprinted forward, touching the man she had made hallucinate and sending him into a deep sleep. Cal shoved the remaining two men back, positioning himself between them and the hostages.
"Get them out of here!" Cal shouted to Amber and Ryan.
Ryan didn't hesitate. He moved to the side of the room, tearing through the wall with his strength. The civilians stared at him in shock and fear, but Amber quickly guided them towards the opening.
"It's okay," she said softly, her voice steady and calm. "We're here to help. You need to get out, now."
One by one, the hostages began to climb through the hole Ryan had made, a few pausing to thank them before disappearing into the safety of the outside.