At the penthouse, the armored woman moved as Geoff expected. A projectile weapon formed on her right gauntlet from a burst of energy matrices. His eyes narrowed as he readied himself for the incoming.

“Three seconds remaining,” the security AI reiterated. Its voice was loud in the silence of their standoff.

Geoff didn’t take his eyes off the woman, his mind racing. He had seen this kind of armor before, the way it shifted, the way it hummed with energy. It was Jonas’ work. There was no doubt. But why would Jonas send someone after him? And why her?

“Two seconds.” The AI continued its countdown to a battle Geoff didn’t want to fight. He took the remaining seconds to dodge a barrage of energy blasts, each one leaving a scorch mark on the once pristine penthouse wall.

“One second,” The AI announced, its voice echoing in the tense silence. The force-field around his paintbrush dropped. Its living power filled the room.

Geoff popped up from a dodging roll, grabbing a plugged in standing lamp. He paused as he noted the blast pattern on the wall leading to the bedroom and the bed, where the platinum blonde still slept. He knew he had counted the number of blasts correctly. But there was no expected scorch mark dangerously close to the woman. Something or someone teleported the blast. He filed that away for later. Currently, his attention belonged to the armored woman.

Intriguingly, the woman in the armor was also leaning in, surprised. Her visor flickered. Geoff could almost hear the cogs turning in her head. She was analyzing the trajectory of her shots, realizing they were off.

Geoff took this opportunity to swing the lamp like a staff, the cord trailing behind it. Sparks erupted when the lamp hit the woman’s helmet, causing her to stumble. Although the lamp shattered, Geoff remained focused on the woman before him.

The discharge from the lamp disrupted the armor’s systems. Its once opaque visor became transparent. The young woman’s eyes shone through.

Geoff glimpsed her wide, dark eyes before the visor flickered back to life. The woman stumbled back, her hand reaching up to her helmet, but she recovered. Her stance widened, ready for another attack.

He grabbed his brush from the counter, intending to end the fight quickly. Its power intensified, resonating through the room.

Geoff swirled the brush in the air, his strokes confident, precise. He painted a bolt of blue lightning. The color shimmered in the air before solidifying into a tangible form. The woman in the armor hesitated, her visor flickering again, trying to analyze the new threat.

As the bolt struck her, she realized she had underestimated her opponent. She raised her arm to block, but too slowly. The bolt of lightning hit her in the chest. The impact threw her back with a cry, slamming her into the wall with a dull thud. Her chest plate was gone, revealing a skintight shimmering fabric suit underneath.

Geoff didn’t hesitate. Knowing the penthouse had a metal frame beneath the layers of drywall and concrete, he painted a giant, cartoonish, U-Shaped magnet around the woman. The magnetic forces pulled it to the wall with her in the middle. She struggled to move, her limbs pinned to the wall by the unseen force.

He approached her, his brush still at the ready. “Alright, let’s try this again, shall we?” Geoff said, his voice calm despite the adrenaline surging through his veins. “Who are you, and why did you attack me?”

The woman fought to break free of the powerful magnet. Magnetic interference wreaked havoc with the systems of her armor. The opaque visor once again flickered. Her eyes showed when the visor cleared.

Geoff could see the indecision in them, the fear. She was young, perhaps too young to be playing hero or villain. He softened his voice, trying to coax an answer out of her.

“Start by telling me your name. I promise I won’t hurt you. I want to understand why you attacked me.”

She glared at him, her jaw set in a stubborn line. Energy matrices on each arm formed a pair of bright plasma cutting torches which she used to free herself by slicing through the magnet. The roar of the cutting torches filled the room. Geoff stepped back, not wanting to get burned.

“Alright, you want to play hardball,” Geoff said, his voice still calm, but with an edge to it. “Fine. But remember, you started this.”

He swirled his brush in the air, painting a large, transparent shield in front of him, just as she broke free from the wall and lunged at him...

Then, a thin wire wrapped around the woman’s body. The wire emitted a burst of energy, causing her to convulse. She fell to the ground, her eyes rolling back in her head. He nudged her with his foot, but she didn’t move. He leaned down, his ear close to her mouth, listening for any signs of life. She was breathing, but she was out cold.

Geoff straightened up; his brow furrowed as he looked at the unconscious woman. He then addressed the source of the wire. “Jonas,” he greeted, with a mix of surprise and annoyance.

“GG,” Jonas responded with a nod, his voice resonating through the broken balcony doors. He wore his signature gold and purple powered-armor suit, known as The Royal. Jonas hovered just outside and above the balcony, his arms outstretched. The wire he had used to incapacitate the woman retracted into his gauntlet with a soft whir.

Geoff glanced from the unconscious woman to Jonas. “I was handling this,” He answered.

“I noticed,” Jonas said. The concise conversation continued. He floated down from the balcony. His feet tapped a gentle touchdown as he stepped inside.

“Yeah? Then mind your own business.” Geoff said with an aggravated growl. His brush at his side, the paint wet and shimmering.

Jonas raised an eyebrow, his purple and gold armor reflecting the harsh balcony sunlight. “I am.” He pressed a button on the woman’s chest plate. The suit evaporated into wisps of energy, leaving her in a skintight, shimmering fabric suit. She was short, but well-proportioned, her dark hair matted with sweat, matching the sweat on her dark skin, her eyes closed.

Geoff’s eyebrows shot up as he recognized the woman. “Reggie?” he asked.

***

Salmon pulled his small Electric Vehicle up to the Jonas Plaza Suites. As he did, a twinge of unease arose. The plaza was a marvel of modern architecture. Each structure testaments to Jonas’ genius, wealth. But they felt... sterile. Too perfect, clean. A museum exhibit rather than a thriving residence.

He stepped out of the EV, his fishlike features drawing a few curious glances from passersby, like the brutish man in the white van across the street. It didn’t bother him anymore. A former superhero had its perks. The ability to breathe underwater was one of them. But it meant Salmon also stood out, even in a city as diverse as Los Angeles.

He adjusted his tweed vest, straightening his bow tie, and strode towards the entrance. The doorman, a tall, imposing figure in a crisp uniform, nodded at him as he approached.

“Professor Greene,” he acknowledged, holding the door open. “A little late to the party, aren’t we?” the doorman quipped, pointing to the caution tape and police cars parked outside.

Salmon glanced at the commotion, his brow furrowing. “What happened here?”

The doorman shrugged. “Some sort of incident in the penthouse. They’ve been at it for hours.”

Salmon’s heart sank. He knew exactly whose penthouse they were talking about. “Thanks,” he said, turning away from the opened door to text Geoff.

“Cripes, GG! What now?” Salmon grumbled, waiting for Geoff’s reply.