Two days passed, and Phoenix's burner phone was still silent. Sharmistha hadn't called or texted. He was so anxious about it that he actually started hoping to see her at the motel. Her choosing to contact him in person would be better than not contacting him at all...but at the same time, he didn't want her to know where he was staying. He wasn't at a different motel each night like he claimed, he was staying at one, and he half-expected her to have figured out which one by now.

After looping around a few blocks to make sure he wasn't being followed, Phoenix drove to Walker's in the afternoon. Both cars were parked in the driveway, but no one answered the door. He knocked again, looking around for a security camera to wave at, but there were none. Curiously, he tried the door handle.

It turned.

Phoenix shook his head. Not having a gate was one thing, but leaving the front door unlocked?

The foyer was empty, as was the kitchen. Phoenix went into the pantry, by himself for the first time, and pulled the lever. As the elevator descended and opened into the basement, he saw them both. Sofia was sitting at a table, her tablet reflected as a square in her reading glasses.

And Walker was on a tightrope.

Two high poles were set up in what had been empty space the last time Phoenix was here. Strung between them was a precariously thin tightrope that Walker was a third of the way across, and underneath was a thin blue mat that didn't look like it would help at all if he fell.

"What are you doing?" Phoenix asked.

"Balance practice," Walker said, carefully putting a foot forward. "Rooftops aren't as easy of a run as you might think. Not to mention trying to stay on top of moving vehicles."

He stopped halfway through, remaining still for a full minute. Sofia noticed and started shouting words of encouragement, but Walker sighed, lowering his arms to his sides. "Good enough."

He crouched down, flipped off the rope backwards, and landed on his feet on the mat, knees slightly bent. Phoenix winced at the thud when he hit the mat, but Walker laughed off the concern.

"I don't have superpowers," he said, shrugging. "So I have to learn to do other things."

"I expect you to die within five years," Sofia commented.

It was clear she was joking, but Phoenix had to agree with the sentiment. The life expectancy for an active superhero, especially a powerless one, couldn't be very high. It was a dangerous profession.

"Any word from the Nameless?" Walker asked.

"No."

"She must be busy," Sofia said. "Give it a few days. She'll come around."

They all nodded, but without any eye contact. Phoenix stared at his hands, fiddling with his fingers. He'd hoped to have more of an update for them. As it was, he'd come here to ask what the backup plan was if the Nameless decided to ghost him.

"Can you fight?" Walker asked suddenly.

Phoenix blinked. "What?"

"You don't look particularly intimidating or capable."

"I don't think I need to?" He shrugged. "I'm decent with telekinesis."

"Sure, but it wouldn't be a bad idea to know how to defend yourself physically, too."

Phoenix realized what he was getting at and shook his head. "Is this a convoluted way of saying you want to help train me?"

Walker smiled. "Is that a yes?"

............................................

Jack waited at the bottom of the stairs at the station, watching the second hand on his watch approach twelve. Three, two, one...

A woman descended to the last step, glanced at him, and kept walking.

Right on time.

"Hello, Sharmistha."

She stopped in her tracks, shoulders tensing. Instead of running away like a sane person would when approached at a quiet station exit in the dead of night, she glanced over her shoulder, cautious but unafraid. "Do I know you?"

"Only by name," he said, "but you've met my friend, Azure."

"Azure?" She turned all the way around, seemingly relaxed now that she knew she was in the company of her own kind. "Guess that makes you a Snake. The leader wouldn't be relegated to talk to me, so you're not Black, and I'll assume you're not Amara. Which is it, then? Crimson or Violet?"

"Crimson," Jack said, trying to hide the conflict in his tone. They weren't exactly Snakes anymore.

"What do you want?"

"I'm looking for Azure. Have you heard from him recently?"

Sharmistha watched him for a second and raised both eyebrows. "Why are you asking me for the whereabouts of your teammate? Is something wrong?"

"Yes," Jack said evenly, "something's wrong, and I hope it doesn't get worse. I'll ask again: have you seen Azure?"

She shook her head slowly. "I haven't seen him in months."

In the silence that followed, Jack searched her face and stance for signs of lying. Of nerves. He saw nothing, and that was frustrating, but not surprising. Sharmistha Kapoor was the right-hand of the Nameless: lying was basically her job.

"Okay," he said finally. "Thank you."

"You really shouldn't approach people like this," she commented, gesturing to the questionable surroundings and quietness. "I was about to pepper spray you."

Jack smiled, glad for her casual remark because it helped lead into what he was going to ask her next. "I'm sorry, I was going to visit you at your office the other day, but someone beat me to it. He was just seconds in front of me." He tilted his head curiously. "Who was that, by the way?"

Sharmistha's ease faltered. Jack waited expectantly. He already knew who the visitor was: the League boy from the exchange. From Prague. From the alley. He beat Jack to Sharmistha, and if Jack hadn't had time-sensitive things to do right after, he would've stuck around to eavesdrop or confront the kid himself when he got out. Now, he only wanted to know who Sharmistha thought he was.

"He's a new addition to the Nameless," she replied. "Some kid interested in making bad choices. Why do you ask? Did he seem familiar to you?"

"Never seen him before. Just wondering."

It was Sharmistha's turn to figure out if she was being lied to, but Jack was as much of an expert as she was. He met her narrowed eyes with an innocent shrug, and she ultimately turned around and walked away.

.....................................

"I don't see how this is self defense!"

Walker had managed to convince Phoenix to try the tightrope. It was wider than it looked from below, but Phoenix was frozen only three steps in. He should've said no.

"You didn't point that out when you went up the ladder!" Walker replied.

If Phoenix weren't afraid to look down, he would've glared. It was a miracle he'd come this far. He kept his arms extended, trying to calm his breathing, and started to wobble.

"You never know what situations you'll end up in," Walker said.

Phoenix had a hard time imagining a series of events that would ever lead to him needing to balance like this, but he agreed. He should've been able to tell that Violet's gun was fake. He should've reacted fast enough to throw the vegetable crate off course. There were a million little things he needed to be better at to defend himself properly, and, sure, balancing could be one of them.

He tilted this way and that in an attempt to stop the wobbling, but every movement made it worse. "That mat better be softer than it looks," he mumbled, and then he fell.

Phoenix sunk into the mat, disoriented, but aside from the cringe-inducing thud, he was alright. He stayed on his back, staring up at the ceiling with squinted eyes until Walker blocked the light by standing over him and peering down with a smile.

"Wanna try again?"

.................................

Elle ran her fingertips over the smooth surfaces of the freshly printed photos. Digital versions would've sufficed, but she'd had time to kill and ideas to put together. She sat, alone, at a stone chess table in a park, the checkered squares smeared with grime and flecks of what she hoped was animal feces. She sifted through her notes and thoughts, getting distracted by the occasional pigeon waddling by.

"Bold move sitting at a chess table," said a voice behind her.

Elle laughed as Jack walked around and sat across from her. She always lost to him in chess. And checkers. But card games? The sun would die before he ever beat her at those.

She handed over the photos. "In my thorough and slightly depressing search through the city," she said, "I found this."

They depicted a cannery building in an abandoned industrial park in the corner of the city limits. The oldness and general dilapidation was expected, but one thing had stood out to her.

"Look at the way this rebar is damaged," she explained. "The way it's...warped. It looks like the way Azure destroyed Novak's infrastructure in Prague."

Jack studied the photos, face scrunched in thought.

"I can't be certain," Elle said quietly, "but I think Azure is in Jethro." She paused. "As for what he's doing..."

Jack shook his head. "Sharmistha says she hasn't seen him, and I honest to God can't tell if she's lying."

Elle took back the photos, gathering them into a neat pile. Why was Azure at the cannery? There was damage present, but not much. Was he practicing? Showing off? Threatening someone?

"In other news," Jack said, "League boy has joined the Nameless."

Elle stared at him. "What? Why?"

"Well, either what happened in Prague scarred him so much that he broke bad and joined a gang...or he's undercover."

"Undercover," Elle agreed. "He didn't seem like the type to turn evil so fast. Not in this way."

"I didn't tell Sharmistha who I'd seen him work for. Figured I'd help him keep his secret."

Elle nodded. She hoped the kid relayed the info about Azure and Ravager to his superiors. The League might help, or it might not. She'd done the best she could to warn them.

"I think," Jack said slowly, "that if we ever find out he's in trouble, we should help him. In terms of Ravager and Azure, he's on our side."

Elle laughed again, half-heartedly this time. "We're looking out for him like he's family, and meanwhile, we're hunting down and trying to stop the guy who was practically a brother to us."

"The damned irony," Jack sighed.

They both went quiet and stared off in different directions, but likely thinking the same things. Elle folded her arms on the edge of the table and rested her head on them, tired. Betrayal, an old supervillain, gangs, and a messy city—never a dull moment, was there? But they'd make it through. She was sure they would.