Chapter 28
The training room smelled like rust and mildew, but the scene inside was anything but dead.
A row of robotic mannequins stood in a rough semi-circle, each one marked with a taped-on label: CIVILIAN, HOSTAGE, or SUSPECT.
A few had fake bloodstains, some were tied up, and others held plastic guns.
Starlight glared at them with hate and exhaustion.
You would think training with robots would never not be cool, but after getting your ass handed to you by said robots it starts to become waaaayyyyy less cool.
They've been doing simulations with them of what to do and what not to do in different situations.
And so far? It was going horribly.
Maeve stood a few feet away, arms crossed, chewing the end of a marker before uncapping it and pointing it at the setup.
"Alright, so let's say this is a hostage scenario," Maeve began, causing Annie to flinch. "There's a guy with a gun, plastic or not, screaming about whatever bullshit reason he thinks justifies holding five people at gunpoint."
She walked briskly between the mannequins, tapping the one labeled SUSPECT. "This is your guy. Angry. Sweating. Hair-trigger. And probably high."
Then she pointed to the one marked HOSTAGE. "This is the one he's clinging to like a human meat shield. You got four more behind him, scared and praying they don't get hurt, or worse, die."
Starlight nodded, following Maeve's movements intently.
"Now," Maeve said, leveling her gaze at her, "what's your first move?"
Starlight hesitated. "Try to talk him down?"
"Good," Maeve replied instantly, sharply. "If you're alone, and he's got a gun to someone's head? You talk to them, buying time for backup to arrive."
She picked up a replica pistol and pointed it at the HOSTAGE mannequin. "Criminals who get to this stage are already spiraling. You show up glowing and righteous, he's more likely to panic and start shooting than surrender."
Starlight frowned. "Then what do I do?"
Maeve lowered the prop weapon and walked over to the young heroine.
"Stay hidden and analyze. Fast. You check their posture, their stance. Are they looking at the hostages or glancing around for exits? Does the hostage look injured or just scared?"
She tapped her own temple. "And you remember, you have powers. They don't. It's not a fair fight, and it shouldn't be."
Maeve stepped back and pointed to the SUSPECT again.
"If there's a shot, take it. Clean, fast, and aimed away from the hostage. Break their wrist. Burn the gun out of their hand. Blind them if you can, anything to make sure they are less of a threat to you and everyone else."
She nodded at the mannequins. "Then, you shield the civilians. Move fast. Keep your body between them and danger. Always, because you never know what might happen."
Starlight glanced back at the display, thoughtful.
"And if there's no clear shot?" she asked.
"Then you talk," Maeve admitted. "Keep them calm. Build trust. Lie if you have to. Stall until backup arrives or you create an opening. But whatever happens…"
Her voice dropped lower.
"You never, ever, put a civilian at risk to save face or look heroic. You don't gamble with lives. You end it clean. One criminal bleeding out on the floor is better than five hostages dead."
Starlight was quiet for a moment, then gave a small nod.
"I get it," she said, more serious now.
Maeve smirked faintly. "You're learning."
She clapped Starlight on the shoulder, firm but approving. "Alright, I think it's time for the real deal, don't you think?"
She handed her an earpiece with a smile.
Starlight smiled up at her excitedly, barely holding back from letting out an excited scream.
_______
The city lights shimmered below like stars had fallen and scattered across the streets.
Wind whipped past as Starlight soared through the sky, her golden glow trailing behind her like a comet's tail. Just ahead, Maeve flew with practiced ease, controlled, silent, and fast.
No wasted movement, no showboating.
"Keep up, Sparkles," Maeve called back without turning.
"I am!" Starlight shot back, only slightly out of breath while struggling to keep pace with Maeve.
"Car chase happening below you about forty feet to your right." Their earpieces chimed, alerting them to the crime happening below them.
They dipped lower, gliding above rooftops and weaving between buildings.
The sound of sirens echoed faintly below.
"There," Maeve said, suddenly banking left.
Starlight followed and spotted it immediately.
A stolen car is tearing down a side street, engine roaring, tires screeching. A man in a ski mask leaned out the passenger window with a pistol, firing wildly behind them.
Maeve dove.
She shot past a billboard and slammed down on the hood of the car with a thunderous crack, the front end buckling instantly.
The vehicle fishtailed and crashed into a lamppost.
In one smooth motion, Maeve punched through the windshield, ripped the driver out by the collar, and dropped him to the pavement.
The police quickly caught up to arrest him.
"Lesson one," she said as Starlight landed beside her. "Momentum is your best friend. Hit fast, hit hard, don't give them time to react."
Starlight nodded while catching her breath, ashamed that she did less than nothing to help.
A shout echoed from a nearby alley a mile away, their enhanced hearing catching it.
Maeve didn't even hesitate, she shot into the air again.
Starlight scrambled after her.
Down below, two men were mugging an elderly man, one waving a knife while the other blocked the exit.
Maeve streaked down like a meteor and yanked the knife from the man's hand before he even registered she was there.
She sent him flying with a sharp elbow to the ribs.
The second tried to run, only to be knocked flat by a blast of Starlight's power.
Maeve turned, eyes raised.
"Nice shot."
Starlight grinned.
Maybe she wasn't as bad as she thought? "Thanks!"
Making sure the two would-be thieves were tied up for the police, checking that the old man wasn't hurt, and walking him to his car.
They continued on.
In twenty minutes, they stopped a domestic dispute, two would-be robbers, and a guy trying to steal a bike with a crowbar.
Maeve let Starlight handle them and smiled as she watched her handle it like she taught her to.
By the time they were gliding over the skyline again, the younger woman was flushed, smiling, eyes lit with something close to pride.
They hovered on a quiet rooftop now, just above the world.
Starlight landed softly. Maeve touched down beside her, costume fluttering in the breeze.
"That's enough for one night," Maeve said, adjusting her gloves.
Starlight turned to her. "That was amazing. I feel like I actually did something tonight."
Maeve gave a rare, genuine smile. "You did. You've got the heart for this job, just don't lose it."
There was a pause, wind whispering through the dark.
Starlight tilted her head. "Are you heading back?"
Maeve nodded. "Eventually. Got one last thing to take care of."
She placed a hand on Starlight's shoulder.
"You're ready. Don't forget what I told you: civilian safety first. Don't hesitate to end a threat fast. You're not here to impress people. You're here to protect them."
"Alright then," she said, smiling in satisfaction. "Lesson's over."
Starlight, slightly winded but still standing tall, gave a crooked grin. "So, that's it? I'm a top-tier hero now?"
Maeve snorted. "Hardly. But you're not going to get yourself or anyone else killed in your first real fight anymore. Which is progress."
Starlight laughed and adjusted the utility strap across her chest, brushing windswept bangs from her face. "Thank you for showing me how it's done. I mean it."
Maeve gave a small nod. "Don't thank me yet. The real test is surviving politics."
Starlight's smile dimmed, but she didn't argue.
"Go on," Maeve added, waving a hand toward the rooftop access door. "You've got PR obligations, remember? Interviews, fake smiles, the whole circus."
Starlight groaned but obeyed, heading inside with a backward glance. "Try not to get caught brooding too dramatically out here."
Maeve offered a dry smirk. "No promises."
Once the door clicked shut behind the younger woman, the smirk faded.
She exhaled slowly, rolled her shoulders, and turned away from the skyline.
Her real work was just beginning.
______
Maeve slipped through the upper levels of Vought Tower like a whisper. The corridors were quieter after hours, executives long gone, and most of the workers at home asleep.
She moved with practiced ease, avoiding security cameras thanks to a stolen blind spot map folded in her jacket pocket.
After ten minutes of careful weaving, she reached the executive wing.
Stan Edgar's office loomed at the end of the hall like a predator at rest, all dark wood, frosted glass, and absolute authority.
She pulled up her phone and saw Edgar in his living room reading a book with a glass of wine in his hand.
She was watching him through one of the cameras John had secretly installed.
She tried the door.
Unlocked.
She raised a brow, but still stepped inside.
The air smelled faintly of old cologne and polished leather. The room was immaculate, the kind of neat that didn't happen naturally.
Every item on the desk was precisely placed, every shelf pristine.
But Maeve wasn't here for appearances.
She moved quickly, checking drawers, skimming tablet screens, running gloved fingers along the spines of books until she found what she was looking for, an embedded safe hidden behind a shelf lined with meaningless awards.
"Bingo," she whispered.
From her coat pocket, she pulled a compact device no bigger than a deck of cards.
A gift from one of John's tech-heads, a quiet little miracle of lockpicking ingenuity.
She placed it on the safe's dial.
It blinked once, then again, then green.
Click.
The safe door cracked open with a soft hiss of air.
Inside sat a single item.
A thick, black file folder.
No label, no markings.
"What the hell?" Maeve reached in and pulled it free, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface like it might vanish if she hesitated.
She ope–
"Don't," came a voice behind her.
Cold. Measured. Final.
Maeve froze.
Her pulse spiked as she turned, slowly.
Stan Edgar stood in the doorway, arms folded, eyes sharp with quiet disapproval.
"I expected better judgment from you," he said, voice calm and cutting.
Maeve's grip tightened on the file.
She looked down at her phone and found the house to be empty.
Stan took a step forward, not threatening, he never needed to be.
"Now," he said, eyes boring into hers, "how about we talk like professionals… before you do something you can't take back."