Chapter Eighteen

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"We got trouble!" Conchata stated, walking into the dark office room.

Yellow light flickered to his desk and Miguel drowsily lifted his head, a red mark across his nose from where it had been pressed to the steel. He had stayed up all night again, trying to find a way to chase after the corporation called "Spectre" that had evaded him for a year now. Suffice to say, he was not happy to be woken up.

"What now?" He groaned groggily, putting on his sunglasses before his mom commanded the lights to turn on.

Lyla flashed to his shoulder and crossed her arms as she summoned a bright screen to materialize in front of him. Conchata arrived in front of his desk, though the screen was too opaque for him to see her expression past the illumination.

Footage of Nueva York played in front of him- somewhere close by. He glanced at the district number and street. It was right around the corner- more specifically four buildings from Babylon towers- he noted as he marked down the spear top buildings. He squinted, trying to see where the dilemma was.

"It's just a bunch of cars. I hardly call that trouble for someone who doesn't have to worry about traffic." He grumbled.

Lyla kissed her lips and zoomed in on the picture. Right on queue, a form shot past- a blur of brown and orange- and crashing into a hollo sign. It was old anyway, he thought to himself.

"Look at this! Readings are off the charts right now! This girl, and these two guys, and this other girl-" The camera kept switching shots as Lyla spoke.

It focused on the woman who struggled to her feet after being bashed into the old welcome sign, before panning to two weirdly dressed men- and then a woman who crawled up onto the holo sign with long mechanical arms that protruded from her back. Miguel noted the mechanical wings that one of the men possessed, and the peculiar bowler hat that the other wore. He didn't think those kinds of hats were still made anymore, nowadays.

"They all have traces of temporal energy!" Lyla gestured. "Especially that tentacle lady, she seems more acquainted with the energy than the last two.

"Whatever Spectre has been planning this past year with the collider, it looks like they finally set it into motion." Conchata added.

"I'm not intimidated if it took them a year to plan a 'dress up as your favorite animal' for work day." Miguel said, causing a scoff from Conchata.

Miguel squinted, trying to get a better look at the woman who seemed to be the only one being attacked- but why? He placed two fingers on the screen before motioning to zoom in, the lens regaining high definition and catching the brown and orange mask of the woman.

His pulse froze. Her mask had webbing. Her visors large white silhouettes in place of eyes, even squinting and forming expressions as she moved and spoke.

"What is she saying?" Miguel asked.

"I'm merging the audio with the feed right now," Lyla waved her arms, her hand sliding a bar to the max setting.

"... the villain monologue wasn't cool back then, and still isn't now!"

Miguel's pulse quickened. The woman's voice wasn't exactly what he expected. She sounded... annoying.

As she dodged in time of the blast, Miguel noticed something different happening. Her body suddenly fluctuated in particles, her appearance changing in milliseconds- too fast for even the camera to detect- like her atoms were dispersing before recombining. She screamed in agony and Miguel almost felt bad for her- almost, if she hadn't been causing mayhem in his city.

As she struggled to recalibrate, the winged man slammed a punch to her swinging form- throwing her out of momentum and sending her into a wall. Not sparing an opportunity for her to get back up, the man was already pinning her with his sharp talons, keeping her against the prismatic white.

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