I flew through the portal. Even remembering the black mood left my own attitude today touched. Being grumpy as fuck because I was sick, my eyes closing in the face of the sudden cold, it certainly didn’t help.

The top of the building was protected by a fractal forcefield that looked like a blooming flower. Layers peeled away to give us an avenue out and forward.

I could see the traffic that had stopped, three blocks away. The people that had left their cars and backed away, but who weren’t willing to abandon their vehicles entirely.

Rain had his silver blade out as he emerged with a bit of swagger, Tristan right behind him. I gave him a look.

“He’s happy because he has two friends. Golem wants to hang out,” Tristan said.

The others followed. Kenzie all bundled up, tech in each hand. Sveta looking normal, though she’d had her mask in her pocket.

“I’m scouting ahead. You guys okay making your way down? I’d carry you down but my arms and hands are a mess right now.”

“Aha, I don’t trust you to haul us around while sick,” Tristan said. “Fuck me, I don’t even get to use anything except my strength?”

Kenzie said something, but Sveta talked over her. Kenzie was talking to Tristan and Sveta to me, so I listened to Sveta.

“Yeah,” Sveta said. She put an hand on my arm. “We’re okay. Scout.”

A small part of me wondered if she was telling me to go because she had something to say. A suspicion.

Except that wasn’t Sveta. My mood was just dark, my interpretations the worst.

I flew away, over rooftops, and closer to the scene of the ongoing crime.

A group of ten villains who weren’t holding back. I could see Trophy Wife with her rack of animal parts and keepsakes mounted on her back and sweeping up behind her head and shoulders. I could see Hookline, who we’d chopped up the last time we’d run into him. No Kitchen Sink. I’d caved in his chest, and he apparently wasn’t in good enough shape for mass robbery.

And Damsel, with Sidepiece and a cape I didn’t recognize in her company. Having the time of her fucking life.

I flew closer to watch her and see if they had a clearer agenda, and the jester-type figure I pinned as Mockument pointed at me, calling out a warning.

She twisted around to look, and I didn’t miss that her expression changed. A fleeting look, more Swansong than Damsel. I’d thought of white behind black or black behind white, of villain and hero and the layers behind layers, and here I caught it, manifest and clearer than ever.

Just for a moment.