The mid-afternoon sun beamed brightly across Salina's front yard, casting a cheerful light pattern through the newly budded branches. The air carried the sweet scent of cherry blossoms and fresh grass, mingling with the bright aroma of floral tea from the coffee shop two blocks away. Jessica inhaled deeply, her enhanced werewolf senses picking up layers of scents that others would miss—the earthy smell of fresh mulch, the delicate perfume of early blooms, and beneath it all, the acrid tang of fear.

  The lawn, still dewy from the morning's light shower, stretched out before them like an emerald carpet, its vibrant spring growth at odds with the tension hanging in the air. Wind chimes on the neighbor's porch created a melodic tinkle, their gentle sound making the moment more surreal rather than soothing. Jessica's muscles tensed as Tiffany emerged from between two flowering dogwood trees, their pink and white petals drifting down like confetti in the gentle breeze.

  Her cheerleading uniform was slightly askew, the pleats of her skirt catching the warm spring wind, and her red hair shimmered in the bright sunlight like polished copper. The pristine white sneakers that normally gleamed during practice were muddy and grass-stained, telling their own story of her hasty journey here. Jessica noticed small tears in Tiffany's stockings, barely visible but telling—the perfect cheer captain would never allow such imperfections under normal circumstances.

  "Wait," Tiffany called out, her voice a mix of desperation and something else—guilt, maybe. "Just... wait. I can explain." Her perfectly manicured hands, usually so steady during routines, trembled slightly as she reached out toward them. A silver charm bracelet jangled at her wrist, the little megaphone charm catching the light. Each charm on the bracelet represented a competition won, victories that now seemed hollow in the face of current events. “It was my fault… And I am totally sorry.”

  Kevin stepped forward, his movement fluid and practiced from years of martial arts training, placing himself subtly between Tiffany and Jessica. His dark eyes narrowed, scanning Tiffany like she was some complex equation he was trying to solve.

  Salina hung back, arms crossed, her black clothing a stark contrast against the vibrant spring grass. The silver pentacle at her throat glinted, and Jessica noticed her fingers absently touching it—a habit she'd developed during times of stress. The protection symbols worked into Salina's dark nail polish caught the light, subtle sigils that most would mistake for simple designs. Her combat boots had left small indentations in the soft spring soil, like punctuation marks in the perfect green expanse.

  "You've got about thirty seconds to explain why we shouldn't call the cops," Kevin said, his voice dry as desert sand.

  Tiffany's perfect composure cracked like thin ice under pressure. The facade of the squad's impeccable captain melted away, revealing the scared teenager beneath. Her green eyes, usually sharp with confidence, now held a wild, haunted look. Jessica recognized that look—she'd seen it in her reflection after her first full moon transformation. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen," she blurted, her carefully applied makeup unable to hide the dark circles under her eyes.

  Henry Ballzack, who had been quietly fuming at the edge of the group, stepped forward. "How did you even access my computer systems? Trampolina's programming isn't exactly open-source." His voice carried the wounded pride of a creator seeing his work corrupted.

  A flush crept up Tiffany's neck, spreading across her face like a watercolor on wet paper. The freckles she usually covered with makeup were now visible, dotting her skin like constellations. "I'm not some tech genius. Mark—my boyfriend—he's good with computers. We just... we were scared." Her fingers twisted the hem of her uniform top, destroying the precise pleats. The Mighty Wolf logo, usually worn with such pride, now seemed to mock their situation.

  "Scared of what?" Salina's voice cut through the tension like a razor. She took a step forward, combat boots crushing the perfectly maintained grass.

  Tiffany's green eyes darted between them like a trapped animal's. The weight of their stares seemed to press down on her shoulders, making her usual perfect posture collapse. Jessica could hear her heartbeat speeding up, a drumbeat of fear and anxiety. "Robot cheerleaders. Henry's Trampolina. Do you have any idea what that could mean for our squad?" Her voice cracked on the last word. "Mark thought if we could just... mess with the programming, create a glitch, show how unreliable she was..."

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  "You intentionally sabotaged my creation?" Henry's voice rose, a mixture of scientific indignation and personal hurt. His hands clenched into fists like he was ready to explode. “What the hell! No wonder people thought cheerleaders are dumb!”

  Jessica felt a familiar prickle of tension—the same sensation that used to run down her spine during their old supernatural investigations. The wolf part of her, usually dormant during the day, stirred restlessly beneath her skin. She could smell the fear-sweat on Tiffany, hear the rapid beating of her heart. Before, she'd traded mystery for popularity. Before everything changed. Before, she'd tried to bury her true nature under pompoms and perfect routines.

  "We never thought she'd go this far," Tiffany said. "Just a small hack. Something to make her look unreliable. Mark knows some guys who do cybersecurity stuff, they helped us create a backdoor in the code." She wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to hold herself together. Her charm bracelet caught the light again, the charms creating tiny prisms on her skin.

  Kevin's eyebrow rose, a gesture that conveyed volumes of skepticism. "A small hack that's now turning a robot into a city-wide terror?" The breeze ruffled his dark hair, carrying with it the distant sound of chaos.

  A sudden buzz interrupted them. Jessica's phone vibrated against her hip, the screen lighting up with a notification. Her enhanced hearing caught the collective intake of breath as they gathered around to watch. A live video feed from someone at the mall filled the screen, the image occasionally shaking with the filmmaker's trembling hands.

  The mall's familiar interior—where they'd spent countless Saturday afternoons—had transformed into a scene of chaos. Screams and the sound of breaking glass replaced the food court's usual cacophony of voices and clattering dishes. The fountain where they used to throw pennies and make wishes now lay in ruins, its water spreading across the floor like a growing flood.

  Trampolina stood in the mall's central atrium, her silver frame gleaming under the skylights like liquid mercury. But this was no longer the precise, choreographed machine from the science fair. Her movements were erratic, violent, reminiscent of a marionette with half its strings cut. Display cases shattered like glass snowflakes, their contents spilling across the tile floor in glittering rivers. Shoppers ran screaming, a human tide fleeing before her mechanical rampage, their faces masks of terror.

  "Oh my god," Tiffany whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. The silver charm bracelet caught the light again, this time seeming more like handcuffs than decoration. Her perfectly applied lip gloss smeared slightly, leaving a faint pink stain on her fingers.

  The video showed Trampolina lifting a massive fountain sculpture—easily weighing hundreds of pounds—and hurling it through a storefront window. The crash echoed through the phone's speakers like thunder. Her LED eyes pulsed red, casting crimson reflections on the polished floor. The sight reminded Jessica of blood pools under fluorescent lights.

  Henry's face went pale, the color draining from it like water down a drain. "That's not just a malfunction. Something's fundamentally broken in her core programming." His fingers twitched toward his laptop bag, already plotting solutions in his head. The screen of his phone reflected in his glasses showed lines of code scrolling past, like digital rain.

  Salina leaned in, watching the chaotic scene. Her dark nail polish flashed as she pointed to something in the screen's corner. "Looks like your 'small hack' just made her worse." The sarcasm in her voice couldn't quite mask her concern. The pentacle at her throat seemed to pulse with a faint light, responding to the growing tension.

  Jessica's werewolf-enhanced hearing caught the first distant wail of emergency sirens, a mournful chorus growing closer. The sound made her teeth ache and her wolf stir more insistently. Something told her this was just the beginning. The air seemed to thicken with tension, carrying the metallic taste of approaching disaster.

  "We need a plan to catch her," Kevin said, his voice calm despite the escalating chaos. "And we need one fast."

  Tiffany looked lost—the perfectly composed cheer captain reduced to a shell-shocked teenager. Her mascara had smudged at the corners of her eyes, creating dark shadows that matched her emotional state. The perfect French manicure she'd been showing off at practice yesterday was now chipped and broken, her fingers raw from nervous picking.

  Henry's fingers were already flying across his phone's screen, lines of code reflecting in his glasses like digital rain. "Protecting your squad may have just endangered the entire town. Stupid cheerleader" The bitterness in his voice cut like broken glass.

  Without warning, Jessica’s fist slammed into his right cheek, knocking him off his feet to the grass. She stood over him like a towering behemoth. “Call my captain stupid again, and I will turn you into a robot with my bare hands!”

  Henry trembled like a frightened puppy on the ground. She was close to ripping him apart, but she didn’t want to scare Tiffany. She had enough terrors already.

  The phone's video feed continued, a real-time nightmare unfolding in high definition. Trampolina moved through the mall like a silver tornado, destruction trailing in her wake. Mannequins toppled like fallen soldiers. Displays exploded in showers of glass and plastic. And somewhere in that chaos, people were trapped, their screams a counterpoint to the mechanical whirring of servos and motors.

  Jessica switched the screen off her phone and turned toward her friends. “Come on. The cops will not have a chance against her. Let’s stop her now.”