The slums were always awake. Even in the dead of night, when the sky was a dim and hazy bruise overhead, lights flickered in the cracks of broken walls and in the makeshift hovels lining the alleys. There ulse here, the sound of survival. Not everyone was hunting for scraps, but they were all searg. Food, work, safety... sometimes, it was as simple as looking for a pce to call home.

  Even in the darkness, there were colors—sprays of graffiti that marked territory, some ret, others fading away with the memories of what they used to mean. Above, the wires that crisscrossed the skyline buzzed and hummed, bringing what little power trickled down to the ground, a sembnce of teology for those willing to steal it.

  Every er hid a story, a struggle, or a sin.

  Yet, even in this chaos, there was an order. It was an order only the inhabitants uood—the children of the streets, the hustlers, and the ones who had known no other life. To the outsiders—the suits from the Metropolis or the occasional do-gooder visitors—this world seemed like a dissonant, dirty symphony.

  But to Fii, it was harmony, no matter how dissonant it seemed.

  Atop one of the many ned skyscrapers of the slums, Fii stood, her long white hair rippling in the wind like a fme caught in a storm, likely caused by the jets of some passerby HighRise's shuttle overhead. Her usually bright blue eyes now watched the se below with a peculiar sharpness, pierg through the yers of darkness and shadoooled in the narrow crevices between the buildings.

  The old hoodie she wore blended into the night like a shadow, torn and tattered but fortable, its edges fraying, yet not nearly enough to be unwearable. She'd gotten too attached to it to let go. She sometimes thought maybe it was a bit too big for her frame, but she liked it like that.

  Underh, she had her more form-fitting bodysuit that covered her from the neck down. Her bat gloves were already on, and so were her signature rollerbdes, ready for what she had ponight.

  During the st couple of weeks, she'd been enjoying the small breaks she had, like actually getting some sleep, going on a date with Quinn, watg old videos on the VHS, or reading a book. Of course, being with Quinn was the best part of it all.

  Tonight, however, she was determio stay up. The ht had been... weird. Not to mention the unease she felt at having missed two nights of patrol.

  With a quiet exhale, she unched herself off the ledge, wind pulling at her hair as she sailed through the air.

  Her power sparked withihe force of gravity, which would ordinarily pull her downwards, seemed to hesitate before bending to her will. She a, twisted it, molded it to her purposes. Instead of plunging toward the cracked, worn pavement below, she redirected her dest.

  The effect was immediate, and it made her grin. She rocketed parallel to the street, swiftly transitioning from free-falling to speeding above the rooftops of the slums. Then, she shot upward into the sky.

  Fii always dreamed of flying, and her superpower let her do just that, in her own way. As the cool night air rushed past her face, the moon shone above, almost full and seemingly close enough to touch. But it wasn't close, of course. No more than she could reach out and grab the stars. But still, the illusion was there. A lie, perhaps, but a pretty one.

  The rooftops of the slums spread out beh her, a ndscape all its own. Many of these buildings had lived out their glory days, their broken windows and crumbling facades testifying to a history that most iropolis would rather fet.

  Fii shot forward, letting her body orient itself parallel to the rooftops that sprawled out beh her. The lines of building tops looked like cracks on old skin.

  This wasn't flying in the sense of defying gravity—it was more about maniputing it, whi her book was eveer. She couldn't simply ignravity; the potential energy had to go somewhere.

  No, what she could do was to alter its dire, re harmless by aligning it with her movements. That was the beauty of it—she could ge the way gravity ied with her, reshaping its force to suit her needs. It was an intricate dance of trol and release, ohat blurred the boundary between falling and gliding, all while beiiculously aware of the sequences of a single misstep.

  If her power wasn't aligned correctly, or if she miscalcuted, that harmless vector could very quickly turn into a catapult or a deadly fall.

  Still, there was always an intrinsic risk to using her power. Maniputing gravity so she could glide smoothly required her to sustain the gravitational energy involved. It made her body feel heavier, sluggish. To an observer, it might look like she was casually flying, but inside, her very cells were grappling with the strain—an unseen cost to the freedom she was enjoying. A power that both liberated ahered her.

  There was another facet to her ability—a more violent and direct application, not as subtle as the gliding she was currently doing. If she wasn't careful, if her focus wavered or her i was unclear, the power she harnessed could, quite literally, crush anything nearby. Imagine invisible hands crushing a soda —that's what she could do, but on a rger scale and with far messier sequences.

  Prime had beeimate example of that.

  Yet, there were more... mysterious parts to her power. Ones she was still disc, pieg together through instind act.

  Like the bizarre sensation that overcame her sometimes, a sixth sehat was hard to describe or uand. It wasn't a typical sense, not taste, smell, hearing, touch, ht. No, it was more of a strange and ephemeral e to the space around her.

  She could "feel" the tug of every object, aware of every molecule's presend motion—a phantom touch that brushed against her sciousness without warning. One moment, nothing; the , it would fre up, overwhelming her senses.

  These moments were rare and hard to predict, almost as though her power had a will of its own. It wasn't a stant panion but a fleeting visitor—unless she really trated, then sometimes she could trigger it.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, she unched herself skyward again. Each time she reached the zenith of her arc, she'd redirect the pull of gravity, hurling herself forward. Each flick of her wrist, each subtle shift of her weight adjusted the invisible tendrils of gravity that she anded, sending her arg high above the slums' rooftop ndscape.

  From this vantage, she could see the sprawling patchwork of fotten buildings and the intricate dance of neon lights marking various pockets of life below.

  Her destination y ahead, The Wires. A cluster of old skyscrapers straddling the edge of the sector—one of the many spots where cargo funneled in and out of the slums. Ziplines huwee sentinels of steel and crete, an aerial highway for those nimble and brave enough to navigate.

  They crisscrossed the skylihick cables running from building to building, f a web that spread far and wide across the slums. Ptforms dotted the heights, eg the wire lines, creating nodes of activity high above the ground.

  Not just anyone could use them. Only the quickest, most adept, and fearless made use of this work—the Zippers. They rode these wires, using harnesses and specialized meical devices that allowed them to shoot across, to and from different locations. Not only that, they also sped along the lines on cable-carts, transferring goods and information or even transp the occasional person. If something o move from one side of the slums to the other quickly, it went through The Wires.

  They were a lifeline, not just for the Zippers, but for the whole unity.

  As Fii approached aed ptform, her grin softened. Leaning into her power, she skewed the gravity around her. In response, her dest eased into a graceful arc. Her rollerbdes grazed the floor for just a moment before she allowed herself to nd softly, her impact barely registering oform's surface.

  Ahead, she spotted the trio of Zippers preparing for their evening run—Luxy, Mica, and Taro. The three of them were huddled around a rusted spool of cable, their fingers w in perfect tandem as they adjusted aed their equipment.

  Fii reized the slight tilt of Mica's head, the way his eyes darted quickly to check the tension in the line before he gave it a satisfied tug. Luxy, his sister, was right beside him, her blonde hair tied into a ponytail that trailed down her back. She was testing the hooks of her harness, while Taro, the oldest of the trio with his shaved head and id-back demeanor, tinkered with the metal winches.

  She approached quietly, her rollerbdes g softly against the uneven surface beh her.

  Miced up first, his brown hair falling over his eyes. "Hey," he greeted her, his tone rexed, almost zy. "Fancy seeing you here." The words had barely left his lips when Fii extended an arm a her power ripple outwards, iing the local gravity slightly.

  An errant nut and bolt sitting atop the equipment beside Mica found themselves ensnared by her influence, rising from their metallic perch to gently spin in the air.

  Mica's eyes wide the sight, and his mouth tugged upwards in a smirk. "Nice. Always like when you e 'round for a visit. You're ood luck charm," he said, reag out and plug the floating hardware from the air before tossing them bato the ptform.

  Meanwhile, Luxy gnced up, her gray-brown eyes looking at Fii first, then towards the spinning nut and bolt with an air of i, before turnitention back to her harness. "We missed ya. No oo tease around here without you. 's been kinda quiet tely. A bit too peaceful."

  "ime, bring Quinn," Taro chimed in, a smile hidden in his stubbled cheek. "He always overthinks everything. Good for some ughs."

  Fii felt her smile deepen. "That's nice, you only want me around to make fun of my boyfriend." She pushed the words out through a smile. "And so you know, I'm not gonna bring him just so you all taunt him. I'm not that cruel."

  "He brings it on himself," Luxy teased.

  "Maybe a little bit," Fii chuckled, g with a slight roll of her eyes. The wind pyed gently with her hair, a few strands crossing her vision as the trio turheir attention back to the gear, only a few st-minute checks left.

  "You joining us?" Mica asked, not missing a beat and a tilt of his head to aowledge Fii's inclusion.

  In response, Fii shrugged, trying to py coy. "Might. Feelin' a bit restless and bored tely."

  Luxy looked up again, her expression rexing into a weling grin. "Works for me. It's been a while since we've had the ce to chill. Tin talk's scarce these days. We could use some fresh intel." That drew a little ugh out of Mica, who nodded, nuing the point at all.

  Fii let out a half-hearted groan, pg a hand on her forehead in mock despair. "And here I was, thinking you wanted my pany, not just what I know. Anyways, what's the word? Business as usual?"

  "Pretty much. We've got an airship barge dog soon—nothing out of the ordinary. Should be a smooth night." Luxy stretched out, her movements supple and cat-like, the telltale sign of pre-run jitters easing through her limbs. With one fluid motion, she flipped her hair baot so subtly showing off. Cssic Luxy.

  Luxy shot Fii a wink. "That is unless you pn on spig things up, superhero."

  Rolling her eyes and pulling down her hood, Fii flipped her longer white locks right in front of Luxy's face, mirr the gesture with a mischievous smile. "Rex, will you? I'm not here to rain on your parade. Think of this as a friendly, casual visit, okay?"

  A ugh escaped Luxy. "Fine, fine. You do you. Just don't slow us down, ya hear?"

  With all the coess she could muster, Fii pnted a hand on her hip, shifting her weight to one side. "Slow you down? You're kidding, right? In your dreams."

  "All sizzle, no steak." Mica piped up. His hands were now busy coiling and seg the line.

  "Watch it!" Fii's grin widened. "If you keep yapping, I might just flip yravity, and then we'll see who's talking." It was ay threat, delivered i, and the smug grin on Mica's face firmed that he, too, was simply pying along.

  Luxy extended her legs and leaned her back against the wall, easing into a forward fold, her palms settling oal ptform, toug her toes. A habit she had whe was almost time for them to get started. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you could flip all of us over. But we still o be on the same page, got it?"

  "Yeah, I got it! Zipped those lips!"

  Together, they finished setting up, Fii lending a hand as they adjusted the lines and secured gear for the uping shipment. She worked alongside them, her hands being familiar with the routines and rhythm, though her eyes couldn't help but s the skies for the telltale sign of the airship's arrival.

  As they worked, the versation drifted naturally toward the Wires and their role in keeping the slums running.

  "People think it's all about speed," Luxy said as she hiked herself up on the zip-line, "but really, it's much more than that. It's about uanding the flow. Knowing which lines are secure, which are frayed, whies have been tampered with. Every night, it's different."

  Taro gave a grunt of agreement. "Especially these days," he chimed in. "Too many gangs think they hijack our deliveries. You have to stay oep ahead, always."

  Mica, in his characteristically quiet manner, nodded. "At least with you around, most of 'em back off. Too much hassle to deal with the 'slum's guardian angel,' right?"

  "Oh, stop it," Fii brushed off the ent, her cheeks warming slightly. "I just keep a, that's all."

  Yet, she couldn't deny the hint of pride swelling within her. Being reized by those she had e to respect was... fttering.

  Without fanfare or the peeling honk in the distao annous arrival, the airship materialized over the nearby skyscraper. Slowly, surely, the barge lumbered into view, an old model that had seeer days, its hull scraped and worn. Two sets of vertical propellers at the stern were its primary source of propulsion.

  If she'd heard right, they were models from the early years of airship use iropolis, now well past their prime but still put to good use. They were loud and didn't let you know when they were going to give in, and break down. Even from a distaheir hum was like an old friend's grumble—familiar, fortable, and maybe a bit grumpy.

  "Right on time," Luxy muttered, her eyes following the ship's approach. "Looks like they're prepping the drop-off."

  A square-shaped aperture on the side of the craft opened, revealing a man dressed in all green. A high-vis vest rested over his attire, and a matg cap sat atop his head. Standard airship crew clothing.

  "That's nal!" Taro chimed in, flig a small swit the remote trol he had. "The drop is approag. I'll keep an eye from above, guide the lines as you go."

  Fii adjusted her hood, pulling it securely over her head and moving into position alongside the other Zippers. Each of them ected to the line using their specialized pulleys, brag for the impending dest.

  With a resounding k from within the airship, a tainer, white and boxy, desded on a rge pulley. Ropes hugging its sides e swayed minimally in the breeze.

  From there, the procedure was simple: they'd wait for it to be deposited at one of the dismount locations, disect the cables holding the taio the e, and then ride The Wires, dragging the shipment along with them from within a cable-cart until they reached the drop-off point in the slums.

  And then they'd do it again and again until the night's shipment was plete. Always moving, always something new.

  After the rge tainer finished l, the Zippers—Mica, Luxy, and Taro—pulled the tainer closer to the ptform. The heavy cable and k system were easy for them to work, even without Fii's help.

  As they unloaded the cargo, Fii silently guided the crates onto the ptform with her abilities, maniputing the tainers gently and precisely. Her trol ravity made tasks that would have otherwise been cumbersome and time-ing surprisingly effortless.

  She carefully lowered each crate to its designated spot, her hands weaving invisible threads of power to guide their dest. As she worked, the trio of Zippers looked on, their expressions a mix of appreciation and mild jealousy.

  "Show-off," Luxy muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she watched the box floating softly into pce. But her tone belied her grin, revealing her words held no gee. It was hard to be frustrated at increased efficy.

  It didn't take long to unload the full tainer, all three Zippers and Fii w quickly. As soon as they fihe airship's hooks reattached to the y tainer, and it was quickly lifted into the sky once more, bato the waiting clutches of the airship to be retrieved.

  After the cargo doors sealed shut, the ship slowly inched forward, the low hum of its engines p up for the return journey home.

  "Aight," Mica said, making the 'ok' gesture with his hand and sing the array of tainers sprawled out before them. " order of business: getting this down."

  Luxy squi a spreadsheet clipped to one of the crates. "We've got a few other locations, so we've gotta split these up." She poio a set of crates, all of them branded with their distinctive stamp.

  "These barges," Taro begaly rapping his knuckles against one of the rger crates, "they're a godsend, holy. Not everything that gets dropped off is useful, but it's better than nothing. Plus, we get to skim a little off the top before it hits the streets."

  Fii chuckled. "Skimming, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"

  "Hey, they spare it," Mica defended, a lopsided smirk on his face. "Gotta make sure we're covered for the trouble, right?"

  Luxy butted in. "Yeah, hazard pay and all. Life on The Wires isly risk-free, you know? But Tarht. These ships e in from all over. Metropolis traders mostly, but a lot of them are freencers, looking to make a quick buck off the books. They stop by here on their way back to the city, drop off goods they couldn't sell at full price. Some of it's donations from the Metropolis supproups, but most of it's just leftovers."

  "This stuff's gonna go a long way," Taro added, seg another crate. "We've had folks in the lower districts waitin' weeks for some of this teot to mention the food—half the slum's on Synthies right now."

  "Has it been that bad?" Fii asked. "I mean, the food situation, specifically?"

  "The farms?" Luxy answered for him, nodding. "Oh, yeah. Way worse than usual. We've had plenty of rain this season but just not enough sun. Crop yields are through the flht now. Everything that isn't dried out is being hiked up, price-wise. Let me tell ya, the st good meal I had was three weeks ago at a run-down noodle shack."

  Taro had his arms crossed, as he grunted, "Imagihe horror: ing good food for so long."

  She flipped him a rude gesture. He chuckled in response.

  "Same here. The Slum runs oovers. That's nothing new. But even then, meals are sparse if you've got no es. Fresh fruit? Fet it." Mica's face had a half-grima it. "Last time I had a fruit was... 't remember wheerday, all I had was a bowl of noodle broth, watered-down, at that."

  Fii bit her lip, staring down at the tainers. This was terrible. Food scarcity was something that had always existed in the slums, but she hadn't realized it was this bad.

  "It's fine. Just shows how good we had it while sging." Taro reached over to cp a reassuring hand on Fii's shoulder, surprising her. He never usually did that. "Rex, superhero, not like there's much you do about it. Plus, we've been worse off."

  Fii gave a nod. "Right, yeah."

  Together, they started loading up the first of many cable-carts with cargo. The cart was an iion of theirs, a metal cage ected to the zip-line, allowing them to ride the wire safely and quickly. It was equipped with a metal pulley and gears system that they all activated whe was time to unch, hooking onto a zip-line.

  As they filled the first cart, Taro tilted his head and asked, "Who's riding the lio the warehouse?"

  "Rock-paper-scissors?" Mica suggested, gng around at the group.

  They agreed and pyed the game quickly. In the end, Taro threw rock, and Luxy paper, earnihe spot. She grinned, high-fiving Mi triumph.

  "Let's go then, ground-pounders," Luxy said, the sound of her pulley's humming the only sign it was moving to the zip-lig on tight. "Load me up!"