History would call it the Chicago Meltdown Day.

“This is too easy!”

The body at her foot was unmoving.

Splitz stood over the body while Jawal rushed into the city from a portal behind her.

The girl wore pigtails and a form-fitting suit in red and white, with complex patterns of swirling red under white armor that covered her upper torso, forearms and lower legs.

Her freckled face was laughing as she disappeared and reappeared with a gun from a fallen cop, aiming it at a lineup of police that had just arrived on the scene.

The screams of the men and women ensued.

She discarded the gun once it was empty, and surveyed her work.

She had cleared the landing site for the Jawal of any threats.

The monsters were able to do their thing - infect everyone and anyone.

My job here is done!

She thought and lounged on a pile of broken building shaped like a chaise.

The Hole had opened at the bottom of the building, ripping it into shreds.

She knew her masters would probably be pissed that more people died to the accident rather than their pets, but shrugged it off.

At least she got a nice couch out of it.

She shouldn’t have let her guard down so soon, because the temperature spiked suddenly.

Splitz sat up.

In the distance, something orange and blazing started moving towards her.

Another interceptor? I thought I handled that bird guy.

Splitz was suddenly gone, her atoms disappearing and then reappearing in a flash of blue before the orange figure.

She planned to teleport the mystery to another location entirely, away from the scavenging of the Jawal.

Protecting them while they infected was her mission.

She reappeared mid-air, only to find that the orange figure had a face, and that a fist was flying towards her.

The temperature was now unbearably hot.

Holy shi-

The edge of the punch grazed her forehead before she teleported out of its way.

When she reappeared, the force of the heat and friction of whatever did hit her sent her flipping in the air.

Splitz stopped herself and hovered, panting.

It was a good thing she could fly, or else she would have absolutely crashed into her perfect stone chaise!

On any other day, Felicia would not have entertained the idea of punching a little girl.

Her surprised foe was a teenager or preteen, whose disposition spoke of play and chaos.

Her first hit had missed, and she felt the fire shoot from her hands as her swing went wide.

If I can shoot, that will help.

Felicia had gotten top scores in marksmanship, a trait that was used in her Phoenix suit equipped with guns. Now, she only wore the fire-proof sleeveless orange bodysuit of her interceptor suit.

She dove and swung at the redheaded girl again.

She teleported away, the flash of blue being interrupted by the explosion of fire that crashed down where she had been standing.

Missing made Felicia’s temper flare, and she felt her fire ignite hotter.

The sound of ambulances in the distance reminded Phoenix of her priority.

Isadora.

She sent another flame towards the teleporter, distracting her as she zipped toward the body on the ground.

She forced herself to calm down, and found that with strong enough will, she was able to contain her fire.

Checking her pulse, she saw that she was breathing shallowly. She didn't have much longer.

This is going to hurt.

Felicia vocalized her thoughts in case Isadora could hear her.

Then she lit her hand on fire, and pressed her hand against Isadora’s stomach where she was bleeding profusely.

She didn’t even get a reaction out of her when fire met flesh, cauterizing the wound shut.

Felicia managed to get Isadora to the nearest ambulance, blocked by the fallen building.

To some degree, the ambulance was lucky, out of sight from the invader.

After taking Isadora, they drove off quickly.

Now Felicia could get to the real fight.