"it's a big old, bad old, tough old town, it's true.
but beginnings are contagious there
they're always setting stages there
they're always turning pages there for you."
___________

New day, new start.

The thought courses through Scarlet's head as she makes her way along the bustling streets of New York City, her purse slung over her shoulder. Her skin feels soft and refreshed after cleaning herself up (hooray for public bathrooms!), and her hair is re-done, braided as neatly as she could get it down her back. The two slices of bread she'd had for breakfast sit in her stomach, a poor attempt to tie her over until she can find something more filling. For now, though, she wanders aimlessly. She's never been one to stay in one place. Doing so for too long makes her feel vulnerable, which only makes her all the more nervous. Who knows who or what could be lurking, waiting for her to let her guard down? In her mind, she's safest when she's on the move, where she can easily evade any potential danger. Plus, walking around gives her a sense of adventure, even if she's got nowhere to go.

All around her, the city teems with life. As dangerous as New York can be, she has to admit it truly is a place unlike any other. The buildings tower high above her, reaching for the sky like plants in a glimmering garden. The sunlight reflects off their glass panes, creating a kaleidoscope effect that takes her breath away. Massive, colorful screens buzz everywhere she looks, advertising everything from hit Broadway shows to restaurants. The streets are crowded with people, all of them like snowflakes—not a single one of them are alike. They all dress in their own unique ways and speak in scores of different languages, a symphony of sounds from chatter to shouting to laughter. And of course, all sorts of booths and shops line the sidewalks, ripe for the picking. As beautiful as it all is, she knows she can never let her guard down to fully admire it. On these mean streets, she has no choice but to remain vigilant.

The little brunette keeps moving until she can feel her already-empty stomach growling. She examines her surroundings, recognizing the area she's in. There's a park only a few blocks from here, and in the Big Apple, where there's parks there's food. She picks up the pace, ducking into the park once she arrives.

Everywhere she looks, New Yorkers go about their day with leisure. Couples stroll hand-in-hand, while others walk their dogs or sit with their noses buried in newspapers. She watches in amusement as a little girl darts past her, only to topple over to the ground. She starts to wail, and moments later, her father rushes over and scoops her up. Scarlet feels a pang in her heart as she watches the man carry his daughter away in his arms, cooing to her softly. She looks away, perking up as she spots a hot dog cart nearby.

Jackpot.

The orphan makes her move.

"Excuse me, sir," she says casually to the vendor as she strolls over. "Um, I think one of the wheels on your cart is broken."

"You pullin' my leg, kid?" the man eyes her with suspicion. When she shakes her head innocently, he stoops down to observe the cart before looking back up. "What're you-"

She's disappeared, and so has the freshly-made hot dog sitting atop his cart.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Hours of adventuring later, the sun has begun to set, staining the city skyline with a bold orange hue. The streets steadily become less crowded as civilians retire to their apartments, and the buzz and excitement of New York starts to die down. Scarlet keeps moving, steps brisk and eyes open. Up ahead, a TV screen blares, and she picks up part of its broadcast as she walks past.

"Welcome back to Grody to The Max! Police reports indicate that a local corner store was robbed last night. The suspect remains at large, but is thought to be a girl in her young teens-"

Scarlet winces and walks faster.

She rounds a corner, only for her breath to hitch as her gaze falls on a police car parked across the street. She flinches, her body going rigid as her mind is suddenly overrun with memories. Last night's events come rushing back to her—the furious screams of the shopkeeper, the threat of being caught, the fear-fueled adrenaline that forced her body to run. A small whimper escapes her trembling lips. For a moment, the light and the people around her disappear completely. She's back on that shadowy street, alone and afraid, fleeing for her life through the darkness. 

"Stop it, Scarlet," she huffs to herself, shaking her head clear. "Stop it. You're okay, you're fine..."

She's snapped back to reality in an instant. The sunset and the people around her blur back into view like nothing ever happened. Scarlet takes a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. Her breathing steadies and her body begins to unlock itself, her heart rate slowing back to normal. Nevertheless, her skin still crawls as she hurries away, leaving the police car behind her.

"Oof!"

Scarlet grunts as she runs straight into a taller man. She stumbles back, eyes wide. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry..."

The man whips around to face her. Scarlet braces herself, ready for him to hurl an insult or a not-so-nice word. Instead, he only fixes her with an empty glare before turning away. His movements are odd—stiff, jerky, like he's not quite used to walking. He shuffles across the street toward a group of other men, and as Scarlet watches, her eyes widen at the sight. They all look exactly alike, with the same rectangular faces, sharp features, and close-cropped black hair. She can't pinpoint a single difference between them–they must be siblings, she decides. What she can pinpoint, though, are the swanky business suits they're decked out in, and the large, clunky briefcases they all carry.

Now those are some pockets I'd pick, she thinks, bouncing on her heels slightly. I bet those guys are loaded!

The little brunette wastes no time, weaving through dwindling crowd of New Yorkers like a wolf toward prey. The group of men begins to head in the opposite direction, moving strangely as one unit. Scarlet follows, careful to keep a safe distance between herself and her targets. Life as a thief has taught her a thing or two, including the golden rule of pickpocketing: get too close, and you'll get caught. She continues her hunt, though she doesn't miss the way her surroundings begin to change the farther she follows. Around her, the buildings turn from shiny and new to dark and run-down, and far fewer people roam the streets. They're nearing the shadier part of town, the kind of place everyone stays away from. Everyone who isn't a delinquent, that is—thieves like her thrive in places like these.

Wherever these weirdos are going, they sure don't want to be seen.

"Where are they even heading?" she mutters under her breath. "I could've found a place to sleep by now..."

The group suddenly stiffens to a halt, causing Scarlet do to the same. The men all look at each other, exchanging glances and nodding before turning and heading into an alleyway. Scarlet cocks her head as she watches them.

Weird...

Nevertheless, she follows, slipping into the alley after them and ducking quickly behind a dumpster. One of the briefcases sits on the ground only a few feet away, and Scarlet's heart flutters as she lays eyes on it. She has a good guess as to what's inside—if not money, surely something valuable that could make her some cash.

She leans forward, reaching for the case.

Just a little farther...

Her fingertips brush the handle.

Almost...got it...

Scarlet yelps as a hand latches onto her wrist, clutching her with an iron grip. One of the men drags her out from behind the dumpster and flings her to the ground before the others. The little orphan shrinks back in fear as all five pairs of eyes lock onto her. To her surprise, they don't look angry, or even mildly annoyed. Instead, their gazes are cold and blank, almost lifeless–but that somehow makes them far more menacing.

"An unwelcome presence has made itself known to Kraang," one of the men states in a strange, monotone voice. "Kraang must now deal with this unwelcome presence."

"Oh geez, I-I'm sorry," Scarlet stammers, scrambling to her feet. "This is all just a big misunderstanding, honest. I'll just leave now and get out of your hair—"

"Kraang must not allow any witnesses to Kraang operations," one of the men says. "You must now be terminated by Kraang."

"Terminated?"

It's been a long time since Scarlet has gone to school, but she knows exactly what the word implies.

"Now, hold on a second, don't you think you're overreacting a little?" she tries desperately, attempting to move away. "How about I just go, and—"

She cries out in pain as one of the men backhands her across the face. The breath flies from her body and her knees buckle and send her to the ground. Her hands fly out in front of her to break her fall and she lands hard on her outstretched hands. There's an audible pop in her left wrist and she gasps, a red-hot jet of pain shooting up arm, branching and blazing through her nerves. The girl chokes and gasps for breath, tears burning at her eyes.

Before her, all five of the men open their briefcases in perfect unison, drawing odd-looking guns and aiming them directly at her. There's a noise like a car engine revving as the weapons all charge up, sizzling with energy.

"NO!"

They open fire.