There was something perverse about a store selling replicas of the clothes people had died in.

  At least, that’s how it seemed to Lauren. She sat in an unobtrusive spot as her friends and classmates wandered around the store, rifling through racks of hanging costumes. The Rosewell students basically had the place to themselves, probably because it was a chain establishment in a market otherwise filled with unique storefronts.

  The only other customers were a trio of preteen girls who stood posing in front of a mirror, each in a schoolgirl-like costume that were identical except for the primary colors. Behind them, Lucy sifted through a rack that seemed to contain mostly green outfits.

  Lauren’s eyes roamed over the store. She took in the mannequins littering the floor and hanging from the tall roof painted sky blue, all frozen in dynamic poses. There were masks. Body armor. Curve-hugging spandex. Hoods and capes. So many different designs. Maybe it was a bit morbid of her, but Lauren couldn’t help but wonder how many of the real versions of these costumes were worn by heroes who died on Invasion Day. What was the final state of those costumes, now hanging so perfectly? Drenched in blood? Covered in laser burns?

  She looked again at the trio of girls, now at the checkout with the costumes still on.

  It should be like the surgeon general’s warning on a pack of cigarettes, she thought. Here’s your new costume. And here’s what happened to the last person who tried to do something with it.

  Lucy walked up to her, holding two hangers with suits on them.

  “Well? What do you think?”

  The one on the right had a glossy silver body and camo patterns on the arms, shoulders, thighs, and legs. Empty pouches were built-in along the waist, and a camo hood hung from the back. The one on the left was black, with off-white panels of armor vaguely resembling bones covering the limbs and ribcage, forming a corset of sorts.

  Lauren looked at the suits, then at Lucy.

  “What are those supposed to be?”

  “Our beta costumes, of course!” she said, shaking them slightly. “Every superhero needs to start with a crappy beta costume. Then when we get our real ones, we can have a completely different look, or we can base them off these. Y’know, with metamaterial and a better design and stuff. These are two original designs, so we won’t be copping anyone’s style if we like them long term. We probably won’t be actually patrolling in these, but we could wear them for like pajama party nights or something like that. Do you like it? I think yours says, I’m a little brooding, I’m a little stabby—”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Lauren asked her suddenly. Maybe a bit harsh.

  Lucy faltered.

  “…What?”

  “I mean…” Lauren shook her head as she thought. She pictured the snippets of Beacon City shown during orientation. Mara describing being trapped underground for days. She wasn’t even there for it, and it horrified her.

  “Didn’t you see it happening? The invasion? And now you want to play dress up? Don’t you know how serious this all is?”

  Lauren knew she was lashing out even as she said the words. Despite what she had said earlier, she was irked to be sitting around some market instead of trying to track down her sister. She had let herself be waylaid. But she also couldn’t fathom why someone would want to throw themself into all of this. Trying to take on the world’s battles was going to get them killed.

  Lucy clutched the costumes closer to herself. Her kind smile faded, brow furrowing. It was the first time Lauren saw her unhappy. Guilt washed over her incensed mood.

  “Of course I know how serious this is,” Lucy said, quieter. “I… I’m gonna help people, and nature, and take it all seriously. I just thought it could be fun too…”

  Lauren sighed. She was fucking up her first new friendship.

  “Lucy…”

  “I’ll go put yours back. And mine, too,” Lucy said, drifting back the way she had come.

  Lauren hung her head. It would probably be better if she just kept her cynicism to herself.

  Thalia wandered over, sparing a glance the way Lucy had gone.

  “Dashing her hopes and dreams?” Thalia asked.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Might be for the best,” Thalia said. “Just between you and me, I think Lucy seems a bit sheltered for all this hero stuff.”

  “That’s cutthroat of you to say,” Lauren replied, now feeling defensive of her roommate.

  Thalia shrugged impassively. “I’ve seen how bad it can get. Keep in mind, I come from a long line of people who do this kind of thing. Speaking of which…”

  She flipped around the hanger that had been draped over her shoulder to show Lauren. On it was a jagged leather top with shoulder straps and a separate animal-pelt skirt attached to a belt. Also hanging from it was a bag containing a case of dark green paint, a few tooth-covered wrist and leg bands, and a hunk of plastic made to look like a rough-cut gem.

  “Look at this! A replica of Lady Savage’s costume. Can you believe my great-great grandma used to dress like this? Kinda slutty for the time.”

  Something crossed her mind.

  “I should buy this…”

  Lauren stood. “Thalia, I—”

  A muted ripple of sound echoed from outside.

  Both of their heads snapped to the windows. People outside froze in uncertainty.

  “Was that…”

  “Yeah,” Lauren said. “Gunfire.”

  More pops sounded. It was coming from somewhere beyond the market street, but within a block. It only took another second for people to start stampeding away towards the waterfront. Which meant the commotion was coming from one of the city’s main streets.

  Lucy, Cleo, Grace, and Benedict all rushed to them from further back in the store. Grace was now wearing a red and blue suit with white stars dotting it. Benedict had a purple gaiter around his neck.

  “What’s going on?” Lucy asked, eyes wide.

  “Gunfire somewhere close by,” Lauren said. She was calm, just like all the times she had heard it on her block, squatting in their makeshift shelter. “Is there an exit out the back?”

  “To hell with that,” Grace said, stepping forward. “I’m indestructible when I have my armor up. First rescue of the class is mine.”

  “Mine too,” Cleo said. “Valley Girl’s gonna make her grand debut.”

  “Are you two fucking crazy?” Lauren hissed. “The school told us to get out of the way and let police handle it.”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Right, how did that work out for you growing up? We’re superheroes. We’re the real first responders. But if you want to sit idly by, I don’t blame you. Some of us are just born for this.”

  She didn’t waste any further time rushing out the front door. Cleo followed her into the abandoned market street.

  Benedict hesitated, clearly apprehensive.

  “Sorry,” he muttered before disappearing. The door opened a second later.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Lauren pinched her nose. “Idiots…”

  “We need to go help them! There could be people hurt,” Lucy said, clutching Lauren’s arm. Her eyes were wide and watery.

  “Oh, not you too!” Lauren cried. “You aren’t bullet-proof, Lucy. One wrong shot and you’re dead. We’re staying right the hell here.”

  They both looked to Thalia, supposedly the one with the most experience. She grimaced, baring her long teeth.

  “Lauren is right, Lucy. Rushing in is a bad idea. But… they are already out there…”

  Lauren tried to plead with her face to break the tie in her favor. Thalia wasn’t fazed by it.

  “I’m gonna go scout it out, stay fast and low to the ground. You two should stay.”

  “If you’re going, so am I,” Lucy insisted.

  Lauren groaned in frustration. This was not going to end well. They had no training yet. No public identities. But she’d be damned if she was going to leave them to do this by themselves.

  “We’ll peek our heads out,” Lauren emphasized. “Nothing stupid or crazy.”

  Even though doing this in the first place is both.

  They broke their huddle and left through the front entrance.

  The day outside was still sunny, but the market street was eerily empty. On the main traffic boulevard, cars were left abandoned, doors hanging open. A plume of thick brown smoke rolled down the street, dissipating in a haze towards the end of the block.

  “What the hell is that?” Thalia asked while shielding her eyes. “Did the others go into that?”

  Lauren could guess they would be dumb enough to charge into the mystery gas. That didn’t mean they should.

  “There’s no way we can get involved without touching whatever that is,” Lauren said.

  The wildstone was already in Thalia’s hand.

  “I’ll be quick.”

  She pocketed it again and bounded off supernaturally fast into the street.

  Sirens could be heard echoing off the buildings some distance away.

  “The police are arriving,” Lauren said to Lucy. “There’s no reason we need to charge in.”

  “I have an idea how to help!” Lucy said. She took off running, but not directly toward the street filled with gas. Instead, she ran diagonally toward the building across the market’s way. Lauren cursed as she followed her.

  Lucy skidded to a stop in front of a brick facade covered with vines. She turned to face Lauren as behind her two vines detached from the wall and wrapped around her waist. They lifted her off the ground and started carrying her upwards.

  “I’ll be above everything up here!” Lucy called. “Maybe I can rescue some people. Just stay put!”

  She disappeared over the edge of the roof, vines curling upwards to slither after her.

  And then Lauren was alone.

  The brown gas was slowly but steadily leaking outwards, clearing a slight amount but also creeping through the market. The hazy edge of it would be on Lauren in less than a minute. If she didn’t find a way to follow Lucy upwards, she’d have to retreat the way the civilians ran.

  Lauren craned her neck, trying to spot anyone through the smog. Looking for any sign that it would be safe to enter, even just long enough to pull someone out of it.

  More shots rattled out in short bursts. At this point, whoever was shooting had to be aiming for either law enforcement or the unaccounted-for student heroes.

  The gas crept in further. It was time to make a decision.

  Lauren shook her head and charged into the gas.

  She held her breath as long as she could as she plunged into the murky brown cloud. She moved quickly, but kept her head swiveling around for any sign of danger. She pinched her nose as tight as possible and kept her mouth clamped shut. She waited for her lungs to start burning. Ten seconds passed. Fifteen. Twenty. Surprisingly, it still felt like she took a breath just a second ago. Still, the gas was burning her eyes.

  Lauren spared a glance back. The market she just came from already looked a mile away, lost in swirling vapor. Even in the second she had her head over her shoulder, the distance seemed to stretch impossibly. Colors danced at the edge of her vision. Sounds became distant and echoey, like she was underwater.

  She almost missed the sound of a revved engine approaching.

  Lauren threw herself to the side, pressing her body against a red car left abandoned on the street. A motorcycle flew past inches away from her, nearly running over her toes.

  The rider of the motorcycle was wearing a thick gas mask. A bulging duffel bag was slung over his shoulder. He glanced at Lauren for the briefest of seconds as he passed.

  Then he was gone. And Lauren realized she was no longer holding her mouth or her nose shut.

  She took a panicked, gasping breath. That was all it took.

  She fell to her knees, no longer able to hold herself up. Her limbs felt like wet noodles. The street expanded around her, then melted, then began rocking like waves. It was all she could do to keep her hands underneath her, her palms scorched by the hot pavement.

  “Here’s the copy of the keys you asked for. He didn’t see us, just like you asked.”

  Lauren looked up, neck straining. The world she knew was around her was lost in the swirl of brown fumes. Instead of there being another car directly in front of her, she saw herself and Rachel standing before Tommy’s wooden desk in his office.

  Rachel. The two of them looked so young. Rachel especially looked lively. This was before the lab had sapped whatever strength was left in her.

  Fourteen-year old Lauren rocked back and forth slightly as Rachel put her hands on Tommy’s desk, waiting for their payment.

  Tommy was leaned back, feet resting on the corner of his desk. He was a scruffy, spidery guy. His flat cap hid his eyes in shadow from the harsh, bare light above. He rolled nothing in particular in between his fingers.

  “Y’know, now that you girls are getting older, I have other work we can get you started with. Safer. More profitable. You don’t even have to work with men if you don’t want to.”

  “Tommy…” Rachel was scolding, but she kept her tone light. They still had to get paid. And they had to stay in Tommy’s good graces. This wasn’t the first time he had brought it up.

  He surrendered the idea.

  “Hey, you two are the dreamers. I’m just the one trying to fund you. You know Uncle Tommy would never make you do anything you don’t want to do. You two want to keep working the petty job pool, competing with the boys…” He reached into his desk and threw a few bills in front of Rachel. “That’s the kind of money you make.”

  Rachel pocketed the money. “That’s all we need for now.”

  The memory-vision broke apart as Lauren forced herself to rise to her feet. Her hand felt the curve of the vehicle beside her. She was in no shape to rescue anyone. She had to get out of this cloud. Which way was out?

  She took a few unstable steps. The ground beneath her rumbled, then pitched violently. Lauren stumbled and hit the rear end of another car. Was that in her head? Her thoughts were one continuous swirl. Nothing was real. Everything was disconnected. Where did her own body end?

  Something in the distance roared like a feral animal. More gunshots. Breaking glass. Thalia. Thalia was still in here. And the others.

  Lauren continued down the line of cars. She seemed to find her balance better once she got some momentum to her movement. She couldn’t see more then a few feet in front of her. It was just like the dust storm that had started all of this.

  Fourteen-year-old Rachel sat on the hood of a car that Lauren passed. Her younger self was pacing in front of it.

  “He can pay us so much more…” Lauren ventured to say.

  “You stop that right now!” Rachel demanded. “Listen to me. I don’t want you anywhere near his basements, his bars, his studios, his vehicles, his motel rooms, nothing. I don’t care if he calls it a fucking cleaning job, or networking, or drink pouring, or anything. We visit Tommy to find out what we’re stealing, and to get paid. And we always go together. You understand?”

  She left the scene behind. The phantoms she saw were all in her head. What mattered was the present. She had to focus. How could one street be so big? It felt like she was running in place. But something had to be different. The cars around her changed.

  Lauren doubled over and hacked up brown phlegm. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Then…

  Nothing.

  It was gone.

  A wave of relief came over her as her senses returned to normal. Her vision sharpened, and her limbs were no longer wobbly. She felt like she could fully breathe again. But she was still in the middle of the gas cloud. At least she could now feel her position in it. She was in the middle of the street, which she had been running down toward whatever was generating the cloud. She breathed in more of the gas, but it had lost its hold on her.

  A guttural scream came from somewhere ahead. Lauren charged forward.

  A boxy shape came into view, looming taller than the surrounding cars. As Lauren approached, she realized it was some kind of armored truck. Its back doors were flung open. Vague human shapes moved inside it. Whatever was generating the gas was somewhere nearby. It roiled fiercely here before seeping into the rest of the area.

  A panicked voice came from inside the back of the armored car three spots in traffic ahead. Lauren stayed low to each car as she approached.

  She poked her head up above the silver sedan she was crouched beside. On the other side of the armored truck, two bikes were mangled in a heap smashed against the side of a pickup truck. More getaway vehicles, like the one that had almost hit Lauren. Except these ones clearly weren’t going anywhere.

  Lauren realized almost too late that someone inside the truck had spotted her. They raised a rifle.

  Lauren ducked as bullets punched into her cover, shattering windows and popping tires. She crawled on hands and knees over broken glass to the back of the vehicle. It was only then she realized that Cleo had also taken cover there.

  The tall girl was leaned against the trunk, knees drawn into herself. She was muttering nonstop.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I’ll be better. I’ll be better…”

  She was still deep in the fugue caused by the gas. She didn’t even acknowledge Lauren right beside her.

  Lauren reached out to try to steady the girl. As soon as her fingers touched Cleo’s shoulder, her hands shot downwards and touched the asphalt.

  A deep shudder passed through the road. Lauren withdrew her hand. Apparently that wasn’t part of the hallucination.

  “Cleo!” Lauren yelled. "Where’s Thalia? Where’s Benedict? Where’s—”

  Something slammed into the car they had ducked behind from directly above. Lauren covered her neck and launched herself away from it.

  Scrambling and turning around, Lauren saw the thing that had fallen out of the sky turned out to be Grace. She rose from the crumpled vehicle, covered head to toe in her glowing energy armor, wings spread behind her.

  “She’s back!” a voice from the truck cried. Loud enough to be understood through their gas mask.

  Bullets fired at Grace. They bounced off her energy shell. She turned to the truck and launched herself toward the interior. The truck shook as she rammed into it. More shots. Was the gas finally starting to clear? It seemed to be getting driven away by wind. A thrumming sound grew louder.

  A shadow passed above. Lauren looked up. The wind and the shadow were caused by a BASTION helicraft descending from the sky. The wide turbines on each side blew air downward, thinning the gas. Lauren shielded her face from the gritty blast of air.

  The last thing she managed to see before turning her face away were ropes being deployed from its body.

  The professionals were here.