“Regina Alvarez. Do you understand each of these rights I have explained to you?” Detective Walsh asked, one hand running through his disheveled hair, the other tucking a flash card back into his wrinkled trench coat.

With her bracers taken, Regina Alvarez remained only in her metallic suit. It clung to her curves while revealing very little of her golden-brown skin. Her dark hair was a wild mane around her shoulders, and her deep eyes flashed with defiance. She stood with a confidence that belied her situation.

Reggie shrugged her shoulder with a grunt.

“Good enough for me.” Detective Walsh quickly concluded, before turning to Jonas and the others standing in the damaged penthouse. “I’ll take her down to the C.I.W. Once she’s processed, you can see to reclaiming her... Er, I mean, your, uh...”

Miss Grace, Jonas’ ever-efficient assistant, stepped forward. Her round glasses glinted in the harsh fluorescent lights of the penthouse. She wore her usual long-skirted business attire, her jet-black hair pulled into a severe bun. Despite her prim appearance, there was a steeliness in her eyes that hinted at a strength few suspected.

“I will ensure that Dr. Richmond receives all of Jonas Corporation’s property,” she said, her voice smooth yet firm. “The bracers as well as... Ms. Alvarez’s bodysuit.”

Reggie did a small bounce on the balls of her feet, accentuating her figure in the skintight suit. “You mean this?” she taunted. “It was a gift from Jonas. But he can take it back, if he desires.”

Detective Walsh cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the sudden shift in tone. “Right, well, that’s settled then. Let’s go, Miss Alvarez.” He gestured towards the door, and Reggie smirked, walking ahead of him with a sway in her hips.

As they left, Reggie stopped and turned her head to address Geoff. “Oh, Senor Art-Man®?” She paused until she had his undivided attention. “Senorita Gomez, te Manda Saludos.” she said, with a dark undertone, as if another, darker voice overrode her own.

Geoff’s eyes narrowed, the name ‘Gomez’ sending a chill down his spine. He remembered the Were-Chicken, a formidable foe from his early days as Art-Man®. Deceased, or so everyone thought. But if Reggie mentioned him, it meant trouble.

As the foray elevator doors closed, Geoff received a text, a simple Darwinian fish on legs emoji. He pocketed his phone. His gaze drifted to the balcony where Jonas stood.

Jonas traded the gleam of his golden and purple armor for a dashing, tieless purple suit with a black silk shirt. His ebony skin seemed to absorb the sunlight, and his bright white sideburns glowed like neon.

Geoff joined him, the warmth of the sun on his face a stark contrast to the chill of the penthouse.

“I take it you have to leave?” Jonas asked, his gaze on the phone Geoff had just pocketed.

Geoff nodded, “Salmon’s here. He was helping me with one of my investigations.”

Jonas’ gaze drifted down to the ground floor entrance, where Salmon was indeed waiting, his small EV parked neatly by the curb. “I see. Well, don’t let me keep you. We will restore this place to its original condition before your return,” Jonas said.

Geoff hesitated, looking back at the penthouse, at the damage, reminding him of Reggie’s taunting words. “Nah, I’ll help. I needed to remodel this balcony, anyway.” Geoff said. He took his paintbrush and outlined a new design on the balcony railing, the tip of his brush glowing with artistic energy. “Besides, I owe you one. Or several, considering how many times you’ve bailed me out.”

Jonas chuckled, “We’re friends, GG. No need to keep score.” He stood up straight and pivoted towards the penthouse’s interior. “I can at least repair the blast damage.”

With a flick of his suit jacket sleeves, Jonas displayed his own metallic bracers. They were similar in design to Reggie’s, but more complex and ornate. Energy flowed from storage batteries in the bracers. Energy Jonas took command of. By transmuting that energy, he generated matter at the subatomic level. He used that matter to repair the damage from Reggie’s attack. Once again, the walls were smooth. The scorch marks vanished. He reassembled the broken furniture. It was the hallmark of his supernatural abilities. All of Jonas’ technology was based on it.

Geoff watched in awe, as he always did when witnessing Jonas’ abilities. “Still impressive, after all these years,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“You’re one to talk,” Jonas said with a chuckle as he turned to see a restored balcony. Geoff finishing it with one last confident stroke of his brush. “Your ‘art’ isn’t exactly natural either.”

Geoff shrugged. “People think too highly of natural. Besides, I’m an artist, not a physicist.” He leaned against the railing, looking out at the city skyline. “So, what’s the deal with Reggie? Why’d she attack me?”

Jonas sighed, joining Geoff at the railing. “GG, I wish I knew. I took her in, trained her, treated her like family. Gave her a suit, in my old colors. I thought she understood our mission, our purpose. But maybe I was wrong. Or I overlooked a clue, some sign that she wasn’t who I thought she was.” Jonas’ voice was heavy with regret, his gaze distant as he stared out at the city.

Geoff clapped a hand on Jonas’ shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Don’t beat yourself up too hard, Jonas. This makes three, right?” Geoff asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Three what?” Jonas asked, turning to Geoff.

“Three times a woman you trusted has betrayed you,” Geoff clarified with a growing smirk.

“Man, please!” Jonas blurted, losing some of his refinement. He swatted Geoff’s hand off of his shoulder.

“There was Becca.” Geoff began. He held up one finger as he walked toward the penthouse elevator.

Jonas strode quickly to catch up to Geoff and defend himself. “She was literally a double-agent for the group C.H.A.O.S. from the start. I don’t see how that counts,” Jonas argued, his voice regaining its usual calm. They stepped into the elevator, Jonas holding the door to finish this conversation.

Geoff leaned against the wall; his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, there’s also Crystal,” he pointed out, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Jonas rolled his eyes. “She merely struck out on her own path, GG. That’s hardly a betrayal.”

Geoff shrugged, “Semantics. My point stands. You’ve got a type, Jonas. Powerful women who end up stabbing you in the back.”

A shadow crossed Jonas’ face. “That’s not fair, Geoff. Each of those complex situations was unique. You can’t just reduce them to some pattern.”

Geoff held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. Just saying, you should be more discerning about whom you trust.”

There was a shared look between them. Shared a silent understanding. Jonas and Geoff both remembered a past mistake. They both shared betrayal with painful consequences. That’s a story for later.

The elevator closed on Jonas’ hand again, bringing him back to the present. “Oh, is she?” Jonas pointed at the platinum blonde still asleep, suspiciously, in the bed.

Geoff was blunt. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s a professional, and she knows what she’s doing.”

Jonas raised an eyebrow. “What kind of professional are we talking about here?”

Geoff shrugged. “You know, someone skilled and qualified. A... consultant.”

Jonas smirked. “A consultant, huh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Geoff ignored the innuendo. “She’s good at what she does. And she’s discreet. That’s all that matters.”

Jonas shook his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” He spoke as the elevator doors cut off the conversation.

The platinum blonde, now alone in the penthouse, sat up quickly in the bed, grabbing her blonde locks and pulling on them to reveal fiery red pigtails underneath. She stretched languidly, her curvy form enhanced by the navy-blue combat leotard she wore. Her piercing green eyes scanned the room, taking in the remnants of the fight. She smirked. “About time they left,” she said, swinging her legs off the bed.