I'm going to enjoy this. I've been in sticky situations before. Hah. But that night at Doublin' Down was the closest I've come to dying. If Nobody hadn't been there, if he hadn't come up with a plan, if we hadn't met Tuesday, I'd be dead. I'm not afraid of dying, but not until I've made Nobody's plans a reality. I know for a fact that I'm more skilled than Virtue, but unfortunately, I wasn't strong enough to do a thing to her last time. Our first interaction was a draw; her inexperience in real combat made her easy to exploit. But I was new to my power, and she completely outclassed me in that regard. This rematch won't end in a draw. She's not going to be green this time; the same trick won't work on her twice, but I've got plenty of new ones to show her.

I'm flying through my smoke, carrying the unconscious ringleader by his collar like a kitten. Let's see if you're still squeamish. The dome of smoke I created slowly starts to shrink with each inhale I take. The smoke is me; I am the smoke. Havok and Revenant are still battling, the glacial chill of undeath versus hellish draconic flame. Snare is one of the first to be freed from my ability, retching as she struggles to get oxygen back to her lungs. Rotshot, Reverso, and Virtue are all trying to figure out what happened to the obscuring black haze that had surrounded everyone. Both groups think it was the other who did it. I descend into the middle of them all. I want Virtue to see me coming. This isn't a sneak attack or a sucker punch. I may be Nobody's man in the dark, but I want her to know what's happening. I want her to know who the fuck did this to her.

"Damn it. Rotshot, we got another Cape. Echochamber's captured. I'll keep the bitch busy," Reverso the Clown yelled.

"New targets for the hunt. If I can't have the dragon, I'll take you as a consolation prize," Rotshot said to me.

She nocks an arrow, aiming her bow at me. A sinister, dark green aura surrounds the tip of the arrow. There really was no chance for her to be a Cape; her power looks legitimately evil—the sharp projectile whistles through the air straight for my head. I could let it pass through my face harmlessly, but that's not fun. They think I'm a Cape. Let me correct that misunderstanding. Echochamber's body makes an excellent shield. The arrow sinks into his round belly until the only part exposed is the fletching. Rotshot's ability starts working quickly, and I don't have much time to make use of his body. The three Neuvohumans all seem surprised. Even Virtue had started thinking I was on her side. Echochamber's stomach is exposed; his clothes have already rotted to nothing. The skin turns a sickly green, then black as it necrotizes.

"What are you doing? If you're fast enough to use him as a shield, then you're fast enough to dodge it," Virtue said angrily.

I don't respond. It's not time for us to talk yet. Smoke leaks out of my hand as I conjure a weapon I haven't had a chance to use. The weapon starts to take shape, the ominous black metal body forming, the reinforced longer barrel, the custom extended magazine with fifteen .50 Action Express cartridges—one half of a pair of custom Desert Eagle handguns I had made. The bullets, along with every component of the guns, have been saturated with my energy. They're more durable and pack much more of a punch. There's a chance the bullet doesn't crumple when I do this. Tilting my head to the side, I pretend I don't understand her. Then I throw Echochamber at Virtue as hard as I can. Virtue catches the Cowl gently, but that's fine; I doubted I could throw a human at her fast enough to surprise her. Moving faster than she expects, I fire two shots center mass at the man in her hands. BOOM BOOM. The bullets punch a hole through him, pulverizing skin, bone, and muscle easily. Virtue is covered in Echochamber's blood and guts. The red splattering drips down her costume, replacing the white and gold. She looks like she went to a gender reveal party, and the gender was abortion.

"That was a person you just murdered. Put the gun down and come with me," Virtue said, dropping the remains of Echochamber.

I was right about her not being green anymore. She wipes the blood off her face and then picks one of the crushed bullets out of her costume. God damn she's tough as shit. I fire another shot, the recoil only manageable thanks to my enhanced strength. The crisp echo of it is such a nice sound. She catches the bullet in her palm, which continues to spin fruitlessly, trying to break skin. Her touch is so deft to create just enough resistance to balance between blunting the bullet and letting it push her hand back. I can't lie to myself, the control is sexy.

"Shooting me won't work, as you can see. Where did you get these? They have to be custom and certainly aren't legal. Fine, don't tell me. You can talk to your bunkmate when I send you to the Pyramid," Virtue said matter-of-factly.

She rushes right at me, appearing right in front of me in a blur. Is she faster? She won't go all out; she'll be holding back to start in an attempt to minimize injuries and test my strength. Her fist is headed for my chin, but it misses as I angle my jaw out of the way. A probing jab hits me in the chest, and it barely registers as a punch. Focusing on speed to overwhelm me only works if I let you. She continues to throw these weak jabs at me as I let them connect, letting our painful noises with each hit. Maybe I should give watching wrestling another chance. It's a lot harder than you think it is to perfectly time your reactions to make it look like you're being hurt. I should test to see whether the bullets actually can't hurt her. The next jab she sends at me, I avoid, spinning around the punch to her blind spot. The sudden burst of speed is enough to trip her up slightly, and I put the muzzle up against the side of her head. The force jerks her head to the side, but the crumpled bullet falls to the ground. There's enough force, but it lacks penetrative power. It still needs some fine-tuning.

Virtue rubs the side of her head, turning to look at me. Her eyes are still calm. That isn't enough to make her lose control? I charge her, aiming a right hook at her face. She moves to intercept my fist, but I transform, swirling around her. I reform behind her, grip her cape, and yank her backward onto the ground. She still assumes I have the strength of a regular person and isn't prepared for how hard I pull. Smoke pours out of me, surrounding just the two of us within a thick, dark cloud of it. Virtue gets up immediately, searching pointlessly for me. I see you, but you can't see me. Very carefully, I start slowly pushing smoke into her lungs. Just slightly more than she would naturally inhale while stuck in here with me. Rotshot looks like she wants to get involved, but decides to join up with the rest of her group to fight against Havok. Floating inside the black sphere, I'm a formless watcher. The smart thing to do would be to leave the smoke and help the other Cape. But you're too prideful for that, aren't you?

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The female Cape is covering her mouth with her hand while vigilantly looking around. Patiently, I wait, savoring the increasing levels of panic she's feeling. Each second I wait only helps weaken her. After a minute of inaction, she finally decides to cut her losses and fly out of here. My fist crashes into her shoulder, and the hit sends her back to the ground, but it also sends a thrumming ache through my arm. I'm stronger now, but that doesn't mean she's any less durable. I drop down and stomp on her abdomen as hard as I can, over and over again. No holding back. Show her you're not the same man she manhandled. Show him that he made the right choice.

The impact of my boot on her body sends cracks spiderwebbing across the cement. Virtue coughs, and I pump smoke into her, not pretending it's coincidental anymore. I grab her by her costume and rip her off the ground, smacking her with the back of my fist. The hacking cough only makes me want to hurt her more. Each wheeze and rasp is proof that my idea is working. I drive my fist into her gut, the limb numb from repeated strikes, and she at long last lets out a grunt of pain. Grabbing her shoulder, I rocket my right knee into her face repeatedly: five, ten, twenty times. Letting go to summon my pistols, I put them on opposite sides of her head and fire. I stagger the shots to ping pong her head around. She's struggling to stand, wobbling from her brain being deprived of oxygen. She mumbles something, and a drop of blood falls from her nose. I made you bleed. You'll remember this forever.

"Oh, what's that? Sorry, are you having trouble breathing?" I asked, speaking for the first time since I attacked. Her droopy eyes open immediately. "It's so annoying when everyone around you is made out of wet paper."

"What?" Virtue croaked out.

"Didn't think we'd meet again, did you? Consider this the first taste of payback; I'm not done with you yet," I said.

"How? Who?" She barely gets the words out.

"I'm Smolder," I said, pulling two frag grenades out of the smoke cloud. I pull the pins and throw them at her. "The man in the mask says 'hello'." The grenades explode, blasting her out of the haze. She'll be fine eventually. Well, she will be physically, who knows about mentally.

I absorb almost all of the released smoke back into my body, hollowing myself out again. I leave just enough to misrepresent my form and look scary. It's time to put the fear of me in the rest of the freaks. The rest of the Villains' Syndicate are facing off against the draconic Cape. He doesn't look good. Half his face is melted away, revealing his skull, but he's still holding out. Reverso can't do anything; Havok's flamebreath is keeping him back. Rotshot is standing on top of a destroyed car, firing the occasional shot at the Cape. Her power is no joke. Would it work on Viviene? Revenant is still swinging, a thin layer of ice covering the ground around him. Snare is boredly heckling the dragon. I fly forward, keeping low to the ground and spring up, shoulder-checking Rotshot off the car. The cosplaying genderbent Robin Hood tumbles forward into another car.

Revenant turns toward the noise, and Havok slashes at his back with his claws. Rotshot scrambles to her feet, nocking an arrow, but I explode forward at her, forcing her to abandon the shot. She grabs three throwing knives between her knuckles, coating them with her evil-looking rot ability. One at a time, she whips them at me, trying to slow me down as I approach her. Her projectiles pass through me harmlessly, striking the car behind me. The Cowl pulls out another set of knives that I smack out of her hands. I grasp her head in my hand, squeezing as I lift her off the ground. She kicks her legs at me, but there isn't enough power to do anything. Her small hands clutch my arm, trying to scratch and claw to get me to drop her.

"Your power is so useful; you could be so much more effective if you abandoned this stupid gimmick. Archery is a hobby, sweetheart. You brought a bow to a gunfight," I mocked.

"Fuck you," she spat.

"Oh, is the widdle viwwin upset? I thought you were going to make villainy evil again? Bring fear to the masses and terrorize the city. You fucking moron; the only groups afraid of a bow and arrow are deer herds and medieval peasants. I'm not gonna kill you, yet."

I increase the pressure on her head, feeling her skull start to give way to my fingers as she screams in agony. I let go, dropping her as she clutches her head. I snap her bow in half and step on her wrist. The moment I feel it break, I step off her and head toward the rest of them, confident I've neutralized her. One by one, I'll abduct them. Nobody will take their powers, and I'll leave their corpses in the streets. Only three left, I'm starting to believe Looking Glass isn't here. Reverso The Clown spots me, sees Rotshot on the ground, and rushes over. C'mon, you circus freak. Reverso is phenomenal at counterattacking, using the opponent's power against them. Four miniature tornadoes of smoke trail off me, morphing into knives. I send them at him, diverting his attention while I materialize my guns. My knives spin around him from above, hovering like swords of Damocles. They all drop together, and he starts moving his arms to redirect them. The high-caliber bullet blows his knee apart, exploding the joint like a smashed pumpkin. He falls, unable to stand on one leg.

"It's just a flesh wound. Walk it off," I joked.

Snare looks at me, balancing on one of her wires. "Who are you?"

"I'm Smolder, and I killed Echochamber and Null. I'm going to wipe the Villains' Syndicate out permanently. Not today, but the next time I pay you a visit, you're gonna have to drop dead, Gorgeous. Now, you and the Scooby Doo villain over there should grab the other two and get out of here," I suggested.

"Let's go, Revenant. Smolder," she said, tasting my name on her tongue. "You'll regret not killing us when you had the chance. We'll hunt you down before you know it."

"None of you are leaving," Havok growled, his flesh knitting itself together as the flames licked at him.

"You're gonna wanna take the win as is. I removed two of these psychos off the streets for good; you're welcome, by the way. It's not your time to die yet, but these guns don't discriminate; I'll put a hole in your fucking head. That female Cape is gonna need medical attention after what I did. So what's more important: your pride and not letting the Cowls get away, or stopping the conflict and saving lives?" I asked, pointing one of my guns at him.

Havok glares at me with his draconic eyes, but scoffs and flies away looking for Virtue. Snare is tying off Reverso's bleeding limb while Revenant lightly freezes the stump. Nobody should have escaped safely by now. The shopping district is going to need a lot of reconstruction efforts by the city. That's Rorschach and Miles' problem, not mine. We weakened one of the five most powerful Cowl groups, introduced myself to Quinstin, and got my getback against Virtue. And I got to meet him.

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