Roxanne turned her head slightly, her pale eyes catching the dim light. “Yeah, she told me. Skullfaces. Big mess.” She sighed, sitting up and stretching her arms. “Wish I had been here. I could’ve cursed them dead in two seconds.”

  “Where were you?” Claire asked, stepping closer.

  “Dealing with Skater X again,” Roxanne replied with a shrug. “Guy thought he could rob a bank and get away with it. Didn’t work out for him.”

  “Oh…” Claire shuffled her feet. “Well, there’s something else. I found the vault door open this morning.”

  Roxanne’s eyes narrowed. “The vault? Dad’s vault?”

  “Mhm.” Claire nodded. “There was a bunch of guns, but… one of those weird metal balls was missing.”

  Roxanne frowned, leaning forward. “You shouldn’t have been in there. Only people that have access are Dad, Nina, and Trevor.”

  Claire’s heart sank. “But… the door was already open when I found it.”

  “Really?” Roxanne said, skeptical. “And who would be dumb enough to leave it open?”

  “I don’t know…” Claire clutched her hands to her chest. “Daddy told Trevor to put his gun away…”

  “So Trevor stole from Dad?”

  “I didn’t say that!” Claire blurted before her voice turned small again. “But… I kinda stole something…”

  Roxanne raised an eyebrow. “Show me.”

  Claire slowly reached under her dress and drew the golden pistol from her panties. Its metallic surface glinted faintly in the candlelight.

  Roxanne blinked, then grinned wide, a dangerous gare in her eyes. “Swiped that from Dad’s collection? What a rebel.” She gave a low chuckle. “Do you even know how to use it?”

  “No~” Claire shook her head. “I tried to shoot it, but it didn't work. I think it's broken.”

  Roxanne rolled her eyes. She took the gun from Claire and oriented it between her hands. She then racked the slide of the pistol, drawing a round into the chamber. Afterward, she handed it back to her little sister. “There. Next time it'll go bang, not click.”

  Claire took the firearm in both hands. Her eyes were wide as she held it, knowing that it would actually shoot next time. Her hands were trembling just thinking about it. She looked up at Roxanne, who ruffled her hair in response.

  “Crazy little baby with a gun,” Roxanne mused. A wicked grin spread onto her face. “Wanna take out a villain?”

  Claire’s jaw dropped. “Really? I can go out with you?”

  “Why not?” Roxanne said with a shrug. The expression on her face made Claire both scared and excited. “You can see my powers, watch a superhero fight, get out of this boring house...”

  Claire was jumping up and down. “This is going to be amazing! Where are we going? Is it dangerous?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Roxanne said with a wink. “Just don’t slow me down.”

  Before Claire could respond, there was a knock at the door.

  “Claire?” Trevor called from the other side of the door. “Your driver is here.”

  Claire groaned, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be right there!” she called out, then looked back at Roxanne with a pout. “I hate lessons.”

  “Well, you got something to look forward to,” Roxanne teased, ushering her toward the door. “Tonight’s going to be epic.”

  Claire once again slid the pistol into her underwear before she practically skipped out the room. She was already imagining tonight’s adventure. She looked back to see Roxanne leaning against the doorframe, watching her go with an amused smirk. Claire returned a bright smile. They were going to be superhero partners! So cool!

  But first, Claire had to endure her private tutoring session with Mnemonic, the renowned hero professor with super memory and knowledge. Claire quickly dipped into her room to grab the matching shoes to her sparkly dress. Afterward, she danced into the hallway and down the stairs, her curls swishing behind her as she hummed an upbeat tune. Trevor stood near the door, arms crossed. He had taken off the armor from last night. Now he wore only a grey suit and tie. As such, Claire could see more of his shaved head and thick neck. He reminded her of a meatball.

  “Ready!” Claire announced once at the bottom of the stairs.

  Trevor opened the door for her, stepping aside as she breezed past. Outside, Mr. Beasley stood by the glossy black and silver luxury hovercar, holding the back door open. The older man’s kind eyes crinkled in a warm smile as Claire approached.

  “Good morning, Miss Claire,” he said, his voice as smooth and deep as always.

  “Morning, Mr. Beasley!” Claire replied, hopping down the steps.

  She ducked into the car, but as she did, her eyes caught something odd. Trevor had approached the car, his hand absently brushing his neck. That’s when she noticed a glowing red kiss mark, stark against his fair skin.

  Claire’s brows shot up. She froze halfway into the car, staring at the mark as it pulsed faintly, like embers in the dark. Her mind raced. Was it magic? A tattoo? Did Trevor have a secret girlfriend?

  “Everything okay, Miss Claire?” Mr. Beasley’s voice pulled her back to the moment.

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

  “Huh? Oh, yeah! Totally fine!” she said quickly, sliding all the way into the seat and settling her bag beside her.

  Beasley nodded and closed the door, then climbed into the driver’s seat while Trevor took the passenger side. The quiet hum of the engine rose as the car glided forward, leaving the estate behind. Claire leaned back in her seat, her excitement for the evening momentarily tempered by the strange sight of the kiss mark.

  As they drove, the sleek black vehicle ascended through the meticulously designed infrastructure of Zenith One. Claire gazed out the window, her eyes drinking in the utopian splendor of the highest level of the superhero megacity. Zenith One was a marvel of heightened engineering, its gleaming towers piercing the sky and glittering with mirrored panels that reflected sunlight in dazzling patterns. Elevated walkways connected luxurious complexes, and spotless automated trams whirred silently along magnetic rails.

  Yet, for all its perfection, there was a sterility to it. The greenery lining the streets was too manicured, the air too crisp and controlled. The bustling activity of heroes, bureaucrats, and elites moved with an eerie precision, as though the city itself orchestrated their every step. Even the laughter of children in the neatly maintained parks seemed subdued, as if Zenith One demanded order in all things.

  “Almost there, Miss Claire,” Beasley said, his tone calm and professional as ever. He navigated the vehicle effortlessly, merging into the flow of other high-end hovercars. Trevor, seated beside him, remained silent, his eyes scanning their surroundings with the vigilance of a soldier always on alert.

  As the silence stretched, Beasley glanced at Trevor with a wry grin. “So, Mr. Security Expert,” he drawled, “care to explain that glowing love note on your neck? Quite the statement, if I do say so.”

  Trevor’s jaw tightened, and he shot Beasley a flat look. “It’s not what you think,” he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Focus on the road.”

  Beasley chuckled softly, clearly amused by the deflection. “As you wish.”

  Claire bit her lip, fighting the urge to laugh. Trevor’s serious demeanor remained unshaken but her curiosity only grew. For now, she settled back into her seat, filing this mystery away with the others.

  When they arrived at the private school, Beasley parked the car in a reserved spot near the entrance. Trevor stepped out first, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings before opening Claire’s door. “Let’s go,” he said, motioning for her to follow.

  Claire hopped out, slinging her bag over her shoulder. The school courtyard stretched before them, a pristine expanse of marble walkways and verdant gardens meticulously maintained by the school’s automated systems. Towering glass buildings lined the perimeter, their surfaces shimmering and pristine. As they walked through the courtyard, Claire couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and discomfort. Everything was so perfect it felt unreal. Other students in immaculate uniforms passed by, their conversations hushed and precise, as though the school itself demanded the same conformity as the city outside. Claire’s sparkly purple dress stood out in the exact way that she wanted.

  Trevor kept a steady pace, his posture rigid and alert. Claire trailed behind, her gaze flitting between the city’s silvers towers and the clear blue sky beyond, dotted with jetcar lanes and the occasional flying hero. They reached the grand double doors of the main building, which slid open silently as they approached.

  Inside, the air was cool and faintly scented with something Claire couldn’t quite place—clean, but not natural. Trevor led her through a maze of gleaming corridors, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. Finally, they stopped in front of a sleek, modern office door.

  “Mnemonic’s expecting you,” Trevor said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He opened the door and gestured for Claire to step inside. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything.”

  Claire nodded, taking a deep breath as she stepped into the office. The door closed softly behind her, leaving her alone with her tutor—and whatever this session had in store.

  Claire settled into her usual seat in the sleek, minimalist office. Mnemonic was in the center of the room, half-sitting on the metallic desk. He wore a viscored headset over his eyes and ears and a purple supersuit with a stylized ‘M’ on the chest. Ever calm and composed, he stood and activated a series of floating displays around him, each one flickering to life with data and images. Claire had never seen his whole face. She wondered if the visor was permanently attached to his head.

  "We continue your lessons on The Power Schism," Mnemonic said.

  Claire rolled her eyes. The Power Schism was a bunch of old battles where all of the supers of the time fought eachother for some reason. She had been learning about it for months by now and still didn’t understand what was the point or why it still mattered. Reluctantly she took out her tablet and stylus to take notes.

  Mnemonic gestured towards the holograms, and the first holograph appeared: an image of Ardentia, a female hero from the previous era, a fiery psychic aura crackling around her. The visuals shifted to a map, highlighting a stronghold under siege.

  "Ardentia's team was tasked with holding the Murion Front against Krasildur and his raiders." Mnemonic said, his voice calm and steady. The accompanying slide displayed a massive viking man, wielding two runed axes, cloaked in furs, leading a horde of his brothers in battle. "However, Ardentia abandoned the defense of the stronghold towards a more personal mission."

  A new image flickered into view, showing a woman contained within an energy barrier. A super by the name of Fray, surrounded by unstable psychic power. Her face was sullen and fearful and her ghostly appearance suggested she might dissolve or fade away.

  "Fray, Ardentia's partner, had been captured in a previous engagement with Superhunters,” Mnemonic said. “Against direct orders, Ardentia chose to leave her post to rescue Fray. Unfortunately, by the time Ardentia reached her, Fray had disappeared."

  Claire raised a brow. “Wait, why?”

  Mnemonic swiped to a different screen which contained more detailed information about Ardentia and Fray in particular. “Some supers with psychic powers have the ability to project a thoughtform or, more rarely, eschew their physical body to become such. Due to a complication of Fray’s powers, it was a struggle for her to maintain a stable presence. It is my understanding that, in the prolonged absence of a grounding relationship during her capture, she dissolved into raw psychic energy, essentially ceasing to exist."

  The screens switched through a series of interviews and articles detailing the impact of Ardentia's decision, how it led to the collapse of the defense, the casualties, and the eventual reveal of the futility of the effort. There were a variety of opinions, some seeing it as justified desperation, others deeming it to be careless or even treacherous. Mnemonic’s voice remained clinical, never revealing any perspective of his own.

  "In the end, Ardentia was left with nothing. Many of her allies died when Krasildur took the Murion Front and Fray was never seen or heard from again. At the time, Ardentia blamed the rigid structure the Allied Powers held during the Schism. She claimed that she would have been more effective during the war if she had more freedom to act.”

  Claire listened on with unexpected interest. There was a detached quality of Mnemonic’s voice, droning on like he had told these events a dozen times. But Claire reacted very differently to the story. As the holograms shifted between images of Ardentia in battle, Fray’s capture, and the magic viking raiders, Claire wondered beyond the raw analysis.

  She thought about what it would be like to prioritize passion above all else. To do what she wanted instead of what she was told. Ardentia had acted out of love, driven by an intense emotional connection, risking it all because of what she felt. But she had waited too late and ended up losing everything.

  Claire’s gaze lingered on the glowing image of Ardentia, the fire in her hands, the fury in her eyes. It was reckless, yes. But it was also... freeing. She felt a stirring inside her, a reminder of what she sometimes pushed down, the need to pursue what truly mattered to her, to stop being so obedient.

  “Be sure to study the battles of the Murion Front,” Mnemonic said. “Your test is next week.”

  Mnemonic powered the system down and sat down behind the desk. As the holograms disappeared, Claire sat quietly, her thoughts a whirlwind of ideas.

  Did she want to follow Hierarch’s rules? Were they keeping her safe or were they holding her back? Even if she had more freedom, what would she do with it?

  And perhaps most concerning of all…

  When she finally decided to follow her heart, would it be too late?