We picked up speed. I took flight, and flew fast enough through the trees that I needed to put my hands out, touching and deflecting trees in passing.

My plan was to draw close enough that I could identify what was happening. That would let me help coordinate the group.

If one side was clearly overwhelmed from the start, it dramatically changed how we would be approaching this. The Fallen being annihilated was bad in its own way, much as Hollow Point’s group being annihilated. One suggested civilians would die at the hands of reckless attackers. The other promised retaliation from the defending party, aimed at a nonspecific enemy.

There was something that mandated a change in our approach, from the very moment the explosion sounded and the engagement was started. It wasn’t what I’d expected.

Gunfire. From both sides.

Shadow 5.8

The gunfire continued. I flew back to the others, positioning myself a good twenty feet from them. My power was active, serving to shield them.

“Get behind cover,” I said.

I was glad to see them listen. Not only did they get to safety, but they weren’t in a position to see if the wretch reached out to any nearby vegetation.

The rules of ‘the game’ were that guns were verboten. ‘The game’. Gangs liked the terminology, and I was pretty sure it had stemmed from that culture. It was the nature of social groups to self-moderate. Things that were selfish and advantageous but that went against the group’s greater interests were acted on. Capes leaned pretty heavily on that abstract moderating force, because the laws had never kept up with us and we’d had to moderate ourselves.

That was the game. It was the walking of the line between the selfish things we did for ourselves and our teams and what served the greater good. Secret identities were to be left alone. Families weren’t to be touched. The day to day of the city and civilian lives weren’t allowed to be disrupted. No killing; no guns.

Capes used swords, crossbows, they used bows and other weapons that were just as lethal as a gun, given a chance. Most of the time it was to coordinate with another power. Capes threw explosive chunks of their bodies, among other things. My home town had had Miss Militia in a role as lieutenant of the Protectorate and then as leader of the team, and she had guns as part of her power.

It came down to symbols, to what the gun meant, and whether the person with the gun was playing along. With a sword or bow, the assumption was yes. When a gun was drawn or fired, barring any context, the assumption was—had to be, even—no. Carrying a gun as a cape and using it implied things that other weapons didn’t.