The original Marvels formed six years ago as a team of five: Juggernaut, Lady Marvel, Echo, Alder, and Ghost. Three years in, Alder retired from the hero life entirely and was replaced by Flamethrower. Two years after that, and right after the incident, Phase filled the spot Ghost left behind when she quit and moved to Sacramento. They'd always been a group of five, and now, for the first time ever, they were six. It kept catching Lady Marvel by surprise.

There was a new Frostbite portrait in the lobby, hung next to Phase's. It was cute; Vidya had this smirk of a smile that Lady Marvel couldn't identify as genuine happiness or genuine snark, as if Frostbite did know what she'd gotten herself into, after all. They'd also retaken their official group photo, and it hung in a frame next to the meeting room doors. Lady Marvel paused every time she passed by it, momentarily baffled by the presence of a sixth person.

Frostbite didn't live here with them, but she was still around. Lady Marvel always debated if she should strike up a conversation or continue in silence, like she had with Phase. She'd made no effort to talk to him when he joined, and they barely knew each other now. It would be unfair if she got to know Frostbite before him.

Note to self, she put in a reminder on her phone. Ask Phase out to...something. Anything.

Everything went on as usual. Frostbite trained, waited for her first mission, and went to school. Flamethrower saved three houses before the fire trucks even got there. Echo finally located and captured a supervillain that had eluded him for only two days, yet it still somehow hurt his pride.

As for Lady Marvel? She was taking a nap on their couch when her pager beeped. Her eyes flew open faster than she wanted them to; as sluggish as her mind had gotten from the superhero routine, her reflexes were good as young.

She stretched before sitting up. She was the only one who used their communal living room—she didn't understand why, since the view was spectacular—and this couch was pretty much her second bed.

"Let's go," Juggernaut said, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. He got bored easily—even a day without some sort of job, and he'd lose his mind.

He pushed a button on the light switch panel before she could say anything. One section of the floor-to-ceiling window slid up, letting in a strong gust of wind that blew her hair right into her yawning mouth.

"Let me read it first," she snapped, pulling her pager out of her boot.

He tapped his foot impatiently until she finished and stood up. "It's uptown," he said, holding out his hand.

She ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make it look somewhat presentable, but the flight would inevitably make a mess of it again, so she gave up and took his hand.

The window slid closed behind them once they were through. Lady Marvel turned away from the ground. He'd been flying her to places for years, so she was too used to the height and speed to be bothered. She simply didn't want to catch anyone's eye and have to smile and wave. Instead, she focused on the nearly invisible, inch-long scar on his cheekbone, under his left eye. It was, as far as she or anyone else knew, the only injury he had, and no one knew how it happened. She asked. He never answered. It only made her more curious.

She cleared her throat. "How's she doing?"

"She can take off without looking like a chicken."

"I...think that's good? And the cryokinesis?"

"I don't know. Phase is doing that part."

"Is she ready for work?"

"Ready enough."

He stopped mid-air. Lady Marvel looked down at the bank they were supposed to be 'saving.' There wasn't much left. The roof had been blown off. The shooter they were after had stopped firing, having run out of targets: the ground was littered with blood stains and a few bodies. There were police surrounding the building but none inside—that's what the Marvels were called for, after all.

They touched down in the bank, careful to avoid the gore and the crumbled infrastructure that covered the formerly beautiful hardwood. Lady Marvel studied the mezzanine-style upper floor, visible from where they stood on the ground level.

"Anything?" she asked.

Juggernaut looked around at the bodies. "Besides yours and mine, there's one heartbeat...but it's not coming from any of these."

Something hot and small hit her back. Lady Marvel turned around in time to watch the bullet fall to the floor. She inhaled deeply through her nose, already annoyed. This happened too often: she'd been a famous hero long enough for everyone to know that bullets don't work, but they always tried anyway.

The shooter was flat on his stomach on the second level, lowering the gun from his eye. He'd gone chalk-white, no doubt wondering why, of all the people who could've come to take him down, it had to be the bulletproof ones.

Lady Marvel shook her head. "Can I take this one?"

Juggernaut shrugged. "All yours."

Lady Marvel leaped, grabbed onto an overhanging railing, and pulled herself up to the second level with ease. The shooter scrambled to his feet and opened fire as he took steps backward, a crazed look in his eyes. The bullets ricocheted off her harmlessly, hitting the walls in a cacophonous rhythm.

"Stop," she said, wrenching the gun out of his hands and throwing it behind her.

He swung his fist. He was bigger than her, and as desperate and terrible as the punch was, there was some momentum behind it—but not enough to win against super strength. She caught his fist in one hand and squeezed until the bones cracked. He screamed, and she threw him to the floor, where he stayed, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Lady Marvel leaned over the railing to look at the carnage and count. Three people—two patrons, one teller—were dead. Five others had been injured and were wheeled out to safety by the police before they got here, but their bloodstains remained. She put her hands on her hips, thinking. What do you want to do today, Celeste?

"You're a sick low life," she said.

She drew her leg back and kicked the side of his head. There was a gross crunch as her boot broke into his skull, and his neck snapped to the side. The crazed look remained, somehow enhanced by the lifelessness. She picked the guy up and tossed him over the railing. Juggernaut neatly took one step to the side, the corpse landing where he'd been standing. Lady Marvel brushed off her hands, satisfied, and jumped down herself.

Juggernaut nudged the body's shoulder with the tip of his boot. "Did he surrender?"

"No." She sighed and delivered her report, dripping with over-the-top sincerity and sadness. "He refused to surrender and wouldn't stop attacking me, so I had no choice but to use deadly force, which, unfortunately, resulted in his death."

Juggernaut nodded solemnly, really acting the part. Then he smiled. "That's perfect. Say it just like that."

And she did, delivering the lines to an officer like she was regretful, like she truly wished the shooter could have been kept alive for questioning and trial and justice. He was a former employee of this bank, the officer told her, with a history of bad habits and violence that all culminated in the spontaneous decision to shoot his coworkers and blow things up. The officer thanked her for her statement and moved on to inspect the bodies.

Lady Marvel bit her lip, feeling a little sorry for the three innocents being covered in tarp. They were fixing their mortgages, applying for loans, doing their jobs. Living their lives. Some people would blame the Marvels for not getting here fast enough to save them, and they could be right. There was always something they could've done better, some way they could've gotten here faster, and if Lady Marvel and Juggernaut cared enough, they would seriously consider those things.

But they didn't care enough.

"We should go," she said quietly, out of the police's earshot. "I'm not in the mood."

"You don't want to be a grinning, darling superhero for the camera today?"

She lowered her voice even more, an edge to it now. "As if you act any different."

"Never said I did."

She shook her head; they antagonized each other way too easily. "This needs to stop."

"What?"

"Our ridiculous bickering. I'm sick of it."

"Stop being obnoxious, and I won't argue. Problem solved."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," she hissed. "Why can't we be civil for longer than a few minutes?"

"What's the point?"

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"We get along well enough to work with each other, and that's really all we need." He held out his hand. "Let's get out of here before they let the camera in."

Lady Marvel glanced over her shoulder. Through the hole in the bank's front wall, she could see a news van parked on the other side of the police tape. A haughty looking reporter was fixing up his tie, waiting for the cops to let him in, or for the Marvels to come out.

Lady Marvel walked the other way.

"Where are you going?" Juggernaut asked.

"I'm walking back. Or taking the train." She turned around long enough to shrug. "Anything's better than going with you."

"We have five agenda meetings today," he said. "You're stuck with me, anyway!"

She only shrugged again, not even bothering to turn around this time. When she thought she heard him laugh and take off, she spared a look behind her to see if he was gone. He was. What happened to us? she thought. We used to be better than this.

Lady Marvel took the back door out of the bank. The police let her pass without a word, and luckily, there was no news van out back. She walked a block and a half behind the buildings before returning to the main street.

Although she'd evaded the reporter, people still noticed that there was a Marvel on the sidewalk. It couldn't be avoided; Lady Marvel smiled back at anyone who caught her eye. Her public identity didn't bother her, and this was coastal California: there were lots of famous people around. She was comfortable being known, and she was safe, too, because everyone knew what she was capable of and no one was stupid enough to harass her.

She walked aimlessly because she didn't need to go back to Celestro right away. Juggernaut wasn't lying, they really did have meetings today, but the first one wasn't for a few hours. She had time but no ideas on how to spend it. Phase was busy, so she'd have to cross him off her to-do list another time.

She stopped short. There was a police cruiser parked at the mouth of an alley, its lights flashing. The two officers looked distressed. One was gently warding off curious passersby, and the other was talking into her radio.

Lady Marvel found herself walking over there. "May I?" she asked.

Both officers nodded and let her through. Lady Marvel stared into the alley, taking a moment to process what she was seeing. Then she forced herself forward and reached out for the head.

The corpse was suspended upside down by a rope tied around the legs. The head hung just around Lady Marvel's height, the bruised arms dangling downward. The clothes were drenched with dark blood, but Lady Marvel thought she saw a supersuit. She brushed the matted, dirty hair away from the face to get a better look. Gaping sockets with no eyeballs, a broken nose, and a torn bottom lip—gruesomely mutilated, but she recognized the woman.

A shadow fell over the alley as something flew overhead, and then the sunlight was back, and then came the shadow again. She had a guess as to what it was. The light returned, and then came the shadow again, and now she was sure it was a person and not just a bird, and that person was thinking what the hell did I just see (she knew him well enough to know what was happening). Juggernaut finally landed right behind her.

He looked at the corpse. "Isn't that—"

"Fairy," Lady Marvel said. The poor woman was one of Celestro's newer heroes, gifted with flight and light powers. Rest in peace, Stephanie Caldwell.

"Isn't she...supposed to have wings?"

She nodded, already grabbing Fairy's shoulders and turning her around carefully. The wings didn't do anything: Stephanie flew the way Juggernaut and Frostbite did, without any extra anatomy, but her flight power was on the weaker side. Since she wasn't impressive enough to be in the big leagues, and since she was pretty and cute in a fairy-tale sort of way, Celestro decided to market her to appeal to children. The alias Fairy and the fake wings attached to her shoulder blades were part of the getup, but the wings were currently missing.

As were the shoulder blades.

There were two bloody, stumpy lines along Fairy's collapsed back. Lady Marvel stared at them, eyes wide. Everything was quiet. The world was holding its breath; something terrible just happened, and something terrible was just beginning.

"Someone cut them out," she said finally.

But who? Fairy wasn't the strongest, but she wasn't weak, and whoever killed her had tortured her knowing she was a famous superhero. The murderer wasn't a run-of-the-mill villain. This was serious.

Juggernaut flew up to untie her legs. Lady Marvel caught the body and lowered it to the ground. He was still in the air when he cleared his throat and said, "Found them."

Lady Marvel looked up, searching, and inhaled sharply when she saw them. Nailed to the wall were Fairy's wings, including the shoulder blades. The bones were broken and ridged. Normally an ethereal white, the plastic wings were now so bloodied and dirtied that it took a good look to recognize them against the brick wall, but they were spread grandly, perfectly.

Pinned up like a trophy.

_______________________

Celestro had an indoor training room, too, but it wasn't for superpowers. It was reserved for training of the physical type, and since Vidya looked like a stick, as Fox so kindly put it, she needed to put some work in.

Vidya's trainers were three women. Kelly was a former mixed martial artist competitor. Hannah was an Olympic medalist in gymnastics. Soo-jin was former military. None of them were super, but together they made a hardcore trifecta of impossibly high standards.

Kelly was pleased with the progress, but Vidya wasn't feeling too great. Her hands hurt from all the wrong punches she'd thrown, and her heart was beating astronomically fast. It felt like death.

"Can we take five?" she panted.

"Take five, ladies," Kelly said, patting her on the back. Even that hurt.

The other two followed her out the door and into the hallway, probably to discuss what a trainwreck this was. Vidya stayed in the room and downed half her water bottle, running her hand over her sweaty head. This was the most exercise she'd gotten in years, and she felt disgusting and sore.

The door abruptly sprung open. Vidya was about to point out that the five-minute break wasn't over yet when she realized that it wasn't Kelly, Hannah, and Soo-jin.

Flamethrower stood there in leggings and a sweatshirt, smiling. "I was hoping I'd find you here."

Vidya almost spat out the water. Her confidence always disappeared the instant she saw Flamethrower, even if it was just passing by her in the hallway.

"What are you doing here?" Vidya asked.

Flamethrower came closer. One foot in front of the other, daintily, a wolf taking its sweet time. "I want to go one-on-one."

Vidya's stomach tightened. "Kelly says I'm not ready for that yet."

"You need real, Marvel-grade experience, since that's what it will come to in the field, and it won't matter if you're ready or not."

"I don't want to fight you."

"You have to," Flamethrower said, merciless. "Since Marv, J, and Phase could snap you in half without meaning to, and since Echo would rather die than make any commitments to help, I'm your only option."

Vidya doubted that help was what was happening here, but what choice did she have? Suck it up and deal with it now, or dread it in the future. And Flamethrower was right: when the time came, no one was going to care if she was ready. This was no different.

"Fine," Vidya relented. "But no powers."

Flamethrower scoffed. "Obviously. You'd lose in a heartbeat."

Vidya put her water bottle down and stood in the center of the mat. Flamethrower took off her sweatshirt, adjusted her tank top, and rolled her shoulders, loosening her muscles. Vidya clenched and unclenched her fists; she had no chance.

The first punch—showing more restraint than expected—came flying at her face. Vidya leaned back to let it pass by, only to have a knee collide with her stomach. The air rushed out of her lungs. There was no audience to be humiliated in front of since Kelly and the girls weren't back, but Vidya blushed, embarrassed.

It's not your fault, she assured herself. It's not your fault you can't hold up against an experienced super. Losing is inevitable.

"Come on," Flamethrower teased. "Hit me!"

Vidya tried, and her arm got snatched and twisted behind her back at a painful angle. Then Flamethrower bent down, grabbed her legs, and threw Vidya backwards. Vidya tumbled over ungracefully and ended up on her back, blinking.

Flamethrower stood over her, shaking her head. "I don't know how you're going to keep up with us, but you better figure it out, Elsa."

She turned to leave. Vidya was in too much throbbing pain to get up, so instead she sat up halfway, using her elbows as support. The fight had gone exactly as she'd expected it to, but the humiliation of defeat was still scathing.

"Why are you so mean to me?" It was such a childish question. Vidya felt like a kindergartner confronting a bully, but there was no other way to say it.

Flamethrower threw her sweatshirt over her shoulder. "Our public attitudes are all that matter. Nobody cares who we are when no one's watching, how we actually act. I have no obligation to treat you nicely, so why on earth should I pretend to like you?"

She left without another word, the training room door slamming shut behind her. Vidya leaned her head back, letting out a deep, shaky breath. The Marvel she once loved the most had become her worst nightmare.

Kelly and the girls returned. They must've seen Flamethrower walking out, because they didn't look surprised to find Vidya on the floor, they looked sympathetic.

"Want to call it a day?" Kelly asked.

Figure it out, Elsa.

Vidya stood up, seeing red. She needed to prove Flamethrower wrong. "No way."