Cheryl's sudden and echoing laughter makes me regret roughly every decision I have made during the past month.

"My, you really do have the most pessimistic mind! I thought you trusted me." She pouts mischievously.

"Then, why am I here? The worst-case scenario of me dying seems likely..!" I admit, half-exasperated.

"No. And, Tanza... Killing you is not the worst thing I could do to you. But that's not what we're here for, and you'd know that if ya'd let me get to my point."

Fortunately, she seems amused and not murderous. But what do I know?

She speaks. "Not enough, but I will teach you, if you'll let me. If you have any questions, we can proceed in that manner. Or I can do things my way"

"I thought you always did things your way?" I joke, on edge yet calmly.

"If you insist..." She snickers and sets her hands upon the back of her hips. "We want the same thing: to rid Gotham of its filth and of the scumbags who rule it using terror and needless slaughter to keep their power... Am I wrong?"

I exhale shakily.

"No, I want that, but... Your boyfriend?"

"You and me, we're not as different as you think, Peanut. Me and him... We use each other, we always have."

I did not mean to use her, though, it just happened. I would not approach someone solely to exploit them and never would I let such a twisted, dishonest rapport grow into a relationship.

"Please, call it what it is. What The Bull and I got is a transaction. He's an asset, not a partner. But I want a partner, I want you to work with me. You saved my life when that bus crashed and you deserve a gift... Something better than just my gratitude."

Is it a duffel bag filled with bricks? Because I'd take another limousine ride...

"What do you mean, exactly, by 'work with you'..?" I am considerably uneasy when she answers my thoughts, so I prefer enunciating my questions, no matter how pointless it is.

Cheryl lifts her forearms, slightly moving them away from her body. Instantaneously, an unknown material begins to spread from the inside of her palms, then across her torso, up her neck and down her legs, transforming her clothes, which I realize are morphing into a suit of some kind... Her hair, from its roots, is turning from brown to a deep brownish olive green color, as well as her eyebrows from what I can discern..! The last touch is a hood that appears behind her collar and flops down with gravity once it is complete. Her strands of hair briskly coagulate into a ponytail, moved by an invisible force and allowing her to pull the hood over her head, using both hands. They are, incidentally, covered by black fingerless gloves. The entire outfit is crafted with what I can only describe as a supple and shiny leather component, textured in alternate ways to create dimension and interest. Where it is not pure black, the costume is colored with multiple shades of green and purple, along with a few accents in dark red and silver.

The most striking aspect is a diamond-shaped gem, the size of a clock watch's face. It is inserted in the center of her covered cleavage and bears ressemblance to an emerald, carved into a pivoted square. I believe it is meant to mimic her necklace... Oh. Of course.

"Does it have healing powers? Your necklace? Because of the stone on it..."

"It's not just any stone..."

My friend strolls over to the mysterious bag. With a whisk of her right hand, the sports bag immediately opens. Bright green light pours out, causing me to avert my eyes.

I slowly bring my pupils onto it again, as a gigantic uneven crystal steadily floats out of the bag and hovers to a stop next to her outstretched hand, now glowing faintly and sparkling at its borders. Cheryl looks up from it, her irises are shimmering in the exact tint of the jagged, translucent rock and so is the inlaid gem over her chest.

Grinning proudly, she states: "It's kryptonite."

By reflex, I back away. "Isn't that stuff radioactive?!"

"Not when it's running through your veins, it's not... And to answer your question, I have the ability to heal myself. I need kryptonite to channel my powers, but these powers are mine."

Her voice hardened in the last sentences, betraying that her ownership over her powers is crucial to her. Whether that importance derives from not always having been in control of them or not, I am unaware... For now.

"And what do you use them for?" I am referring to her unnatural abilities.

"I track down the nastiest, most evil bastards in this city... And exact punishment on them." The gangster grazes her long nails down the flying chunk of kryptonite. "All by myself, of course. I work for no one, and there are only so many people you can trust... Or bear to lose."

"Wow... Uh... Maybe you could bear losing me, as you said, but I'd rather not become a vigilante if I'll die within a week. I'm fine with being a paramedic... And enforcing justice in my own manner."

"That's why you'll need my gift!" she enthusiastically retorts.

What am I supposed to do with a hundred pounds of radioactive crystal? I don't have an innate connection to it and powers to...

"Can you move over, now, Peanut? You're kinda standing on the 'X'."

I step back and, finally, I see it. A mammoth circle of runes and other marks is etched in pale lilac chalk, covering the lit up surface of wooden planks. On their own, the lines seem like curved streaks of dust. Therefore, the design has probably been exposed ever since Cheryl cleared the dirt off the ground, but I had not looked at the floor wholly before now. Indeed, a powdery 'X' was nestled underneath my boots.

The piece of kryptonite hurls through the air toward it and lands with another wood splitting sound.

Inquisitively, I wonder, "So, you can read minds and move kryptonite, is that it?"

The woman laughs, apparently delighted by my comment.

"Oh, Tanza... I can do so much more than that. And, soon, so will you." She snaps her fingers, and vivid green light floods the inside of the tent, illuminating even the furthest corners that were previously unattainable to my eyes as it escapes the kryptonite. Smiling wolfishly, she continues, "I will give you your own powers. But, you gotta be certain that you want this before accepting."

"Well," I consult my surroundings, the empty structure bathed in deep green light, "What kind of powers?"

"You will be able to manipulate and create kryptonite energy. I also plan on unlocking your brain to telepathy and granting you greater psychic abilities. Oh, and our minds will be closely bonded for eternity, of course. Ya know, if everything works out."

"And by 'everything' you mean..." I motion at the symbols in chalk.

"The ritual, yeah." My friend clasps her hands together, "Whaddaya say? Wanna kick some ass with me?"

I swallow, breathing consciously to clear my mind. It feels as though a terrible weight is slowly lifting off my shoulders. I could do so much more with these powers... Help so many people... Scare so many criminals... And read the minds of my patients to know if they deserve to be saved from the courtroom. No more sneaking around without any real results... I could represent the hand of justice, at last. No more fear... I would be powerful enough to protect those in need. All those I could not save... Yes. This is it. I could do it myself, with Cheryl's help. If I do not take this opportunity... I will surely regret it. And who is going to watch over Gotham City if not me? Not the police department. She asked for my help, right? That means she believes in me. So do I. I can do this. I can be... A vigilante. Disregard what the greedy and corrupt elite try to pass as laws, to bring safety to the streets that freed me. To guard the people who welcomed me with open arms, even when I felt too hurt to reciprocate their friendship. Her offer is the next logical step if I want to truly help the population of innocent civilians that are stuck here or have nowhere better to go, along with those who choose to stay..! Yes.

"Do I like peanuts?" I smirk at her.

"Yes!" she screams, "No time to waste, hon."

Almost cackling, she unexpectedly teleports to another end of the traced disk. Instantly, an imperceptible force lifts me off the floor and drops me gingerly over another 'X' on the rim of the circle, facing her.

My heartbeat is racing, but I cross my arms resolutely. I'm ready.

/What is your favorite color?/

I gasp, wincing. Cheryl's voice was... Inside my head. It sounded the same as usual, except I felt as though my brain was thudding with every syllable, and a simultaneously frigid and searing wave of pain was spreading into my cranium, onto my eardrums, my eyes and inside my nose and mouth.

I am better, now, like it never happened.

/I'm giving you a taste before we get started. So?/ Her voice is gentle, and I shudder at the ache, already under the impression that it is less invasive.

Blue.

I can handle this.

I cannot form another thought as all my senses shut down, and my mind goes perfectly blank.