He moves so fast I barely see it coming - a sweeping arm that seems to catch nothing but air a foot in front of me, but somehow it catches my helmet, knocking my head downwards hard enough to jar my neck. I stumble back, ribs screaming in protest, as I try to process what just happened.

  No time to think. He advances methodically, stance low and balanced. Not the flashy movement of Rush Order or the aggressive posturing of Patriot - Captain Devil moves like someone who's been professionally trained. Military, maybe, or special forces before joining Argus Corps. If I had to guess.

  "I don't want to hurt you," he says, voice straining for gentle despite the circumstances. "Just come with me peacefully."

  "So Richardson can unmask me on live TV? Hard pass." I sidestep, trying to create distance, but he mirrors my movement perfectly, cutting off my path to the nearest exit.

  "There's laws against that!" He says through grit teeth.

  "There's laws against a lot of shit your boss does, like murder," I bark. Now people start noticing. Scattering around me. Good.

  People are beginning to evacuate en masse, a stream of confused civilians flowing toward the doors while security tries to maintain order. Through gaps in the crowd, I catch glimpses of Mom's group, still holding their ground despite security's attempts to disperse them. Good - the longer they keep attention divided, the better chance I have of... of what? Escape? Victory? At this point, I'd settle for not getting arrested.

  "If you're worried about your identity, that's a conversation for later," Captain Devil says, his scarf rippling behind him despite the still air of the hall. "Right now, I just need you to surrender."

  He lunges again - not at me directly, but at the space beside me. I flinch away instinctively, feeling something heavy pass through the air where I'd been standing. A security barrier topples over with a crash, making nearby civilians yelp in surprise.

  What the hell? He's not touching anything, but objects are moving. Telekinesis? But why the strange movements?

  No time to analyze. I drop and roll as another invisible force sweeps over my head, my ribs protesting every inch of the movement. I hear something grind against old brick, and bits of mortar and dust come off and onto my shoulders. Coming up in a crouch, I find myself cornered against a wall, Captain Devil approaching steadily. Whatever he's throwing at me, I can't see it. I'm only dodging it right now because of luck.

  "You're injured," he observes, not unkindly. "Ribs? From the Rush Order fight?"

  "Just a scratch," I lie, watching his movements carefully. If I can figure out the pattern of his attacks, maybe I can-

  Something slams into the wall beside my head, sending plaster dust raining down. Not telekinesis - something solid but invisible. Like extensions of his body that I can't see.

  Fuck, I wish I had my gauntlet. I fumble for my utility belt, where it's harder to grab the little spritzer of diluted pig's blood. Two squirts, and then it gets swatted out of my hand by something I can't see, knocking my wrist the exact direction a wrist isn't supposed to go. It's plastic, so it doesn't shatter, but it does pop open, spill, and leak out into the crowd. "Watch your biohazards!" I yell, trying to play it off.

  "I'm going to pretend you didn't just admit to spraying biohazards," he replies, while the vaguely pink mist collects on the surface of his... telekinetic claws? Large, with two fingers each, each... 'floating hand' about the size of a man's torso all told. No wonder he's digging ravines in the brick. Who gets a power like that?

  "Thanks. I appreciate it," I say, shoving teeth out from my knuckles. I gotta get a bead on him. If there's blood flow in those invisible claws, it'll be easier to see them than with the loose, vaguely sticky liquid I've sprayed. And then, if I can track him, I can stay away from him.

  Swipe, duck. I lean in close, and aim for his face. Pop pop - he brings his wrists up more than quickly enough to catch my deliberately clumsy jab. Great. Good job. I don't want to hurt you, either. My knuckles brush his exposed wrist where the glove doesn't quite meet his sleeve. I feel wetness, and a sharp, immediate burning sensation on my skin.

  "Shit!" I jerk my hand back, shaking off droplets of something lime green that sizzles through the material of my glove. Acid? His blood is acid? "Are you fucking with me? How many powers do you have?"

  "Sorry about that," Captain Devil says, actually sounding apologetic. "Four. And all of them give you a good reason to come quietly so we don't put any more civilians in harm's way."

  I back away, processing this new information. Can't use my teeth on him - that would be like biting into a chemical weapon. Need a different approach.

  "Bloodhound, do you copy?" Lily's voice comes through my earpiece, barely audible over the chaos. "We're outside. Tasha says police are converging on City Hall. What's your status?"

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  I tap my earpiece twice, then twice - our signal for "in trouble, standby".

  "This doesn't have to escalate," he says, advancing again. "Think about the civilians."

  He's right - the room is still half-full of people trying to leave, and whatever those invisible extensions are, they don't seem precisely controlled. If we keep fighting here, someone could get hurt.

  But surrender means putting myself in Richardson's hands before we get to the police. And I'm not sure how much I'm willing to gamble with the police right now either.

  "They could've sent Patriot, or Turbo Jett. Even Miasma wouldn't be as dangerous as someone with acid blood like a fucking... Like a Ripley," I talk, trying to keep him distracted, trying to edge closer to a civilian.

  "Xenomorph," he corrects.

  "Whatever, man," I dismiss, glancing around, looking for options. The stage behind me is a dead end. The main exits are blocked by security. The side doors might work, but I'd have to get past Captain Devil first.

  Wait. The windows. The ornate windows of City Hall's meeting room are tall and designed to open for ventilation in the pre-air conditioning era. If I could reach one...

  "Would you believe me if I said I was the least destructive option?" He asks. I almost feel like he means that!

  I consider the question while running two different thought trains. "Yeah. Probably," I reply.

  "Last chance," Captain Devil says, now only feet away. "Come quietly."

  I need to buy time. "Why are you doing this? You don't seem like Richardson's usual type of lackey."

  His expression shifts slightly. "I follow lawful orders. The ordinance passed. You're in violation."

  "An unjust law isn't a law at all," I counter, edging sideways toward the nearest window. "You know what Richardson is doing isn't about public safety."

  "My opinion on the legislation is irrelevant," he shoots back calmly. "My job is enforcement, not policy."

  "Even when the policy is wrong? Even when innocent kids are criminalized for powers they never asked for?" I'm stalling, but I also genuinely want to know. He seems different from the other Argus Corps members - less zealous, more measured.

  "The legal system has channels for challenging unjust laws," he replies. "Vigilantism isn't one of them."

  I laugh, short and bitter. "Tell that to the Kingdom of Keys. Tell that to Rush Order. Tell that to--"

  He moves faster than before, arms outstretched but not quite reaching me. I feel a pressure against my torso, like invisible hands trying to grapple me. I twist away, but something catches my ankle, sending me sprawling to the floor.

  Pain explodes through my ribcage as I hit the ground. For a moment, black spots dance across my vision. I roll instantly, barely avoiding a follow-up grab that cracks the tile where I'd been lying.

  "Sorry," he says again, actually sounding like he means it. "I'm trying not to hurt you. But I'm also not gonna let you monologue, kid. Save it for the next town hall, where you can come without making a scene about it. You wouldn't need to be brought in if you weren't trying to be Bloodhound."

  "Nobody would listen to me if I wasn't Bloodhound, idiot," I gasp, scrambling back to my feet. My ribs are screaming now, each breath a knife between my bones.

  I tap my earpiece three times - our emergency extraction signal - and hear Lily's acknowledgment beep. Whatever she's planning, I need to get to that window. Or out. Somehow.

  Captain Devil advances again, this time with security personnel flanking him from both sides. They're closing in, cutting off escape routes one by one. The crowd has thinned significantly, but there are still civilians watching from the edges of the room, phones recording everything.

  I back toward the window, buying seconds with each step. Ten feet to go. Eight. Six.

  "There's nowhere to go," Captain Devil says. "You're just making this harder on yourself."

  "Story of my life," I reply, and then I do something that would make Multiplex proud - I change direction suddenly, charging straight at Captain Devil instead of away.

  He reacts instantly, those invisible extensions sweeping out defensively - but I've been watching, learning his patterns. I dive into a baseball slide, passing beneath the unseen force, and come up on the other side before he can pivot.

  Four feet to the window. Three.

  Security closes in from the sides, their movements coordinated now, professional. Captain Devil turns, something like respect flashing in his eyes as he realizes what I'm doing.

  "Don't--" he starts, but I'm already moving.

  Two feet. One.

  Something catches the back of my suit - one of his invisible extensions, grabbing my boot. I'm yanked backwards, an extremely undignified yelp shooting out of me like vomit. My stomach feels hollow and my hands are shaking, like I'm a jumpy squirrel and he's about to bite through my spinal column.

  Civilians everywhere are fleeing now, escorted out or just running. The whole place is rapidly clearing, outside of the protestors. I don't even see Richardson on the stage.

  "End of the line, Bloodhound," he says, not unkindly.

  I struggle against the unseen force, but it's like fighting against a steel vise. Captain Devil pulls me steadily closer, security forming a wall behind him. There's no way out now.

  Haha. Hahaha! You wish.

  Captain Devil sees something in my expression change. His eyes narrow slightly. "Don't do anything reckless," he warns.

  "You kidding?" I ask, not sarcastically.

  "I don't kid, kid," Captain Devil replies. One of the security guards thumps a baton into his hand. Really, I'm not even afraid of Captain Devil so much - it's more the other guys. Behind Captain Devil, I catch a glimpse of Mom watching from across the room, her expression unreadable. Security personnel tighten their circle, cutting off every other escape route. Captain Devil puts a hand out, stilling them from totally encasing me in a personal kettle. "Go keep the peace elsewhere, guys. I've got this one."

  They slowly filter out, but slowly. I can tell they're waiting for me to do something stupid, not entirely leaving. Some of them do, in fact, do as they're ordered, and start trying to escort civilians out. I notice a lot of the protestors among them. I can't see my Mom anymore.

  Fuck. I hope she didn't get arrested.

  More than that, I hope she's only going to ground me for a month.

  "Reckless is my middle name, buddy," I say, squirming, writhing, putting on a show of pain and exertion.

  Captain Devil sighs, bending down into a squat, like he's about to deliver a fatherly lecture. His weirdo lime green vascular system pulses inside his body. His blood pressure is crazy high - he's impossible to miss in a room. And, uh, no, his claws are not attached to him biologically. "You're not getting out of this. My talons are strong enough to buckle metal. Please don't break your ankle on my behalf."

  "Not trying to break my ankle," I huff through grit teeth, twisting my ankle around against the invisible claw.

  "Then what are you doing?" He asks, teeing me up. Probably not on purpose.

  "Working the zipper!" I yell as my boot comes loose and I slip into a backwards roll.

  Even if nobody believes what I'm about to say, it doesn't matter. I'm not giving her a free two hours to gab on about whatever she wants. You want that time? Take it from me.

  And while I can still maybe get one over on her rhetorically.

  VidBucket or wherever people are watching viral videos these days. Should we just accept that any politician or public figure might get harassed by a teenager with a mask, and they get carte blanche?"

  "You were the last person seen in a car with him. A cashier at Checkers fulfilled your order, saw the two of you in your personal vehicle, and then he was found dead the next day when his wife got home. Nobody had seen him in the interim," I say, louder this time. "No investigation was opened because they don't investigate natural deaths."

  What, you thought I was going to just let you embarrass me again, you hag? No, I did my fucking research since last time. You don't read the local forums much, do you? Some random cashier talked a little too much about how cool it was to see Councilwoman Richardson, and now I've got a pin in your wing.

  That gets a reaction out of her. Her nostrils flare. Her eyebrows crumple down like she kissed a lemon but only the top half of her face is reacting, her lips remaining perfectly pursed and plump. "I won't pretend I didn't wine and dine him with Broad Street's finest, but I can assure you, he was fine when he left the car. I can't be held to task for an old man's grease-fueled heart attack," she quips, with studied, practiced indifference.

  But that's fine. Respond to me. Acknowledge it! Put the story in the public eye! Do it! The more people talk about it, the more airtime it gets. Even if I don't pull you apart now - someone will. I'm sure of it.

  "You were in Tacony, too. I don't need a tinfoil hat to read witness statements," I say, voice carrying through the hall despite the growing murmurs. "There's eyewitness testimony from multiple Tacony residents who saw someone matching your description at the scene of the dinosaur attack - a woman controlling the weather while a T-Rex demolished a family home. The same T-Rex that later appeared at the Philadelphia Zoo during a Kingdom operation."

  "From whom? Some terrified neighbor who saw a dinosaur and then - what - a Black woman in North Philly? Congratulations, you just described half the city."

  I'm not coddling you - what you do is valuable. Isn't it time you had a break? You should be focusing on college, not taking out your angst on me. Put that nose of yours to work in paramedic school. Why do you have to take the violent path?"

  and then a couple of other minor changes for clarity, tone, cleanup, etc.