Page 8 of Villainous Intent

I forced myself to take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of impending rain, and finally noticed the other League members occupying the space.

Menace stood right beside Cipher, gesturing animatedly as he talked. He was shorter by almost a foot and significantly less physically imposing. His unremarkable features blended into the gray atmosphere, but I knew his file. He had a reputation for being dangerously clever, compensating for his limited power set. He was the kind of guy who would stab you with a compliment while calculating the exact monetary value of your organs.

A third member stood apart from them, arms crossed, looking pissed about something. I didn’t recognize him.

“Follow me,” I said to Stephanie with what I hoped was reassuring confidence rather than the growing panic I felt. It was time to be Adult Annie, who definitely didn’t have a Villain kink.

I led her toward the Alliance-marked section, keeping my eyes fixed on the horizon like the Villains were just uninteresting pieces of architecture. Nothing to see here. Just a Keeper doing Keeper things.

My inner thoughts were far less composed: Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at his arms or his mouth or⁠—

“So we just stand here with them?” Stephanie whispered incredulously, eyes wide with alarm.

“Neutral observation point,” I explained. “Both sides are free to use these positions. We ignore them, they ignore us. It’s in the rule book.”

Ah yes, the rule book. My personal bible. If only it had a chapter on “What To Do When You’ve Fantasized About A Villain You’re Now Sharing Airspace With.” That would be helpful right about now.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Stephanie’s voice wavered as she eyed the edge of the observation point.

I climbed onto the ledge, the wind battering against me and pulling at my shirt, but my feet remained firmly planted.

“You have three lines of safety between you and the ground,” I recited, having given this speech to nervous rookies countless times. “First, your shoe anchors keep you secured to the building. Second, your uniform contains emergency repulsion technology that activates automatically if you fall. And third, the entire combat zone is surrounded by safety fields that will catch anyone who enters their perimeter without proper clearance.”

I extended my hand to help Stephanie up. “Trust the tech. It’s never failed a Keeper yet.”

“Are you sure about that?” a grating voice called from behind us.

I caught movement from the corner of my eye and tensed. The League member, the one I hadn’t recognized, was approaching us with the casual swagger people adopt when they think they’re way more impressive than they actually are.

I ignored him.

“What’s wrong, Keeper?” he sneered, stopping a few feet away. “Forgotten how to talk?”

“I didn’t think your question required a response,” I replied in the monotone Keeper voice I reserved for Supers who seemed likely to cause trouble. It was deliberately flat, devoid of any emotion that might provide fuel for their antagonism. “The safety systems are Alliance and League certified and maintained daily.”

I could feel Stephanie trembling beside me, and the last thing I needed was for her first field experience to involve a confrontation with this asshole.

“That doesn’t answer whether the technology has ever failed,” he pressed, taking another step closer.

Why the hell did some shitheads think they were being clever with these sort of gotcha questions? Like I hadn’t been trained to handle this exact conversation a thousand times.

“With the triple redundancy, there have been zero fatalities in eight years. Keepers are safer up here than crossing the street.”

God, I hoped Cipher wasn’t listening to me in my full bureaucratic glory. Then again, why would he care about some random Keeper’s awkward interaction? He was probably discussing important League business with Menace. Like world domination plans or revolutionary technology. Things that didn’t involve listening to me spout safety statistics.

The Villain stepped closer.

“What about if I just...” he made a casual throwing motion with his hand, “chuck one of you past the safety field? They only extend so far from the building, right?”

“Volt,” Menace called out. “Do you really get off on bothering Keepers?”

Volt didn’t even glance in Menace’s direction. Instead, he leaned in closer to me.

“Tell me, Keeper,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a tone he clearly thought was menacing. “Do you know how to fly?”

The audacity of this asshole thinking he could intimidate us while we were just doing our jobs.

I tilted my head slightly, my eyes never leaving his. “Can you?”