I'm back! Camp NaNoWriMo has come to the end, and I wrote a little over 30k words towards the novel in the month of July, so I have a bit of a backlog for updates, which is good because I refused to touch this for several days after the challenge ended lol. Things are progressing, so I hope you enjoy!


Martin could barely tear himself away from the tiny square of cardstock that represented salvation for The Talon Alliance. His power had led him back home without a problem, and he chose to take a scenic route through the park to watch the ducks splash in a fountain. Though, throughout the whole walk, the big question still lingered in his mind: had his navigation power brought him to Pandora Labs, or was he just insane and trusting a spot of random chance? He needed more information.

But despite how important he knew it was to understand Pandora Labs and what they could potentially offer to The Talon Alliance, he was almost afraid to start research again, and he busied himself with other things—making lunch, folding laundry, and ironing his Whitetail costume (him falling on the ice during the fight with Cryoblast did not help the state of it, and he was regretting his all-white hero attire for not the first time). At one point he picked up his phone, looking at each of the recent contacts in turn: Cyrus, Reyna, and Father. He contemplated calling each one, individually.

Cyrus was Martin's best friend and they talked about everything. Whenever Martin had a plan and got too caught up in the details, it was always Cyrus that helped him see the big picture. They always worked together, whether partnering up for a middle school research project, working together to survive the horrors of high school gym class, or showing the city that they could be the next big pro heroes. Martin also knew that Cyrus would be hurt if he knew that Martin was trying to work on his own. For some reason or another, he hated to disappoint Cyrus, and it couldn't hurt to put off talking to him for a little longer.

As for Reyna herself, she was practical and would always help Martin come up with the best course of action, but she would definitely be angry if she knew about Martin's little excursion, along with her natural distrust of any sorts of organizations like Pandora Labs. She cared a lot about making sure the team stuck together, and she kept them grounded and acting rationally. It was an uncharacteristically reckless move on Martin's part. Not to mention the personal information he had revealed, even on his friends' behalf. He should've contacted them for backup, and it didn't help that wasting time while waiting for Reyna to catch up would never be an issue.

But what about his dad? What would Martin even tell him? He didn't want to worry him, he had already been through enough when Mother was a hero.

No, Martin was a master at planning and strategy, and Whitetail was the leader of The Talon Alliance. He could figure this out on his own.

He was also the son of Mitzi Vogel, the hero Aether who was wronged by a simple misunderstanding. His friends didn't need to be a part of this fight.

Finally Martin sat down at his desk, opened his laptop, and typed 'Pandora Labs' into the search bar.

The first several search results were irrelevant, relating to Greek mythology or fantasy novels, which wasn't a reassuring sign, but he finally found them, instantly recognizing the address that was on the mini map that popped up. Pandora Labs: research laboratory in the State of San Francisco, Central District. 5.0 stars, 1 rating.

As expected, the website had a very simple style, with black text on white background. The information it had was pretty minimal, and Martin could've sworn that it contained a word-for-word copy of Leona's elevator pitch the previous day. (His memory was quite good.) Dr. Damian Hope had a few published papers on new methods for genetic sequencing, but not much that mentioned metas specifically.

There was one reference to something called 'Project Pandora's Box,' but when Martin looked it up directly, the only results he got were from some video game. He filed the name away for further research; it sounded like a codename, perhaps there was another name that the study went by? He would have to ask Leona and Damian about it when he returned.

'When he returned?' he thought suddenly. He was already acting like he had made the decision, without even consulting with his team.

His team!

Martin never swore, but all sorts of curses went through his head as he reached for his phone, and the profanities only redoubled when he saw the time.

He saw many unread messages from The Talon Alliance's group chat, and several missed calls from both Reyna and Cyrus. His eyes widened as he realized that they were supposed to meet over fifteen minutes ago, and his heart began to fill with dread. What would his friends think of him?

And then he heard a tap on his window.

Martin whirled around and put a hand on his chest, feeling like he almost had a heart attack. It was dark outside. How much time had he spent researching Pandora Labs? But that was the least of his worries, because Swansong was floating outside his window. He had his visor up, and he gave Martin a sheepish grin and raised a hand to knock timidly on the glass pane.

Martin quickly ran for the window and opened it. How had he missed their calls?

Was Pandora Labs really that important to him?

"Hey man, are you okay?" Swansong burst out immediately, but he was interrupted just as quickly.

"Whitetail! What's going on? We called you!" Reyna's voice hollered, and sure enough, Martin looked down to see the bright yellow stripes of Peregrine's jumpsuit. She was standing on the street below, her hands on her hips.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," Martin said lamely. What else was there to do?

Swansong narrowed his eyes at that, but he still seemed more worried and less angry than Peregrine. Martin never forgot things, all of his friends knew that. But thankfully, Swansong said nothing.

"Get your ass down here, Whitetail!" Peregrine shouted. Her tone was playful… he thought. Martin just hoped he hadn't genuinely offended his friends.

"I'll be right there," Martin mumbled to Swansong. He closed the window and ran for his bedroom to change into his Whitetail costume and grab his rapier.

Whitetail took the stairs two at a time, not daring to wait for the elevator, and he finally emerged from the apartment complex.

"I was tracking someone," Peregrine snapped. "Clearly a meta, in a really strange costume, with some sort of movement based power."

"You could've gone without me. You should've," Whitetail responded, suddenly overcome by dread and guilt. This couldn't be happening. He had failed.

"We would never do that!" Swansong responded immediately, sounding positively horrified. "We're a team."

Peregrine scoffed. "Yeah, we're just so lost without you."

Whitetail knew that he was their leader. He had to be on top of everything, and that meant coming up with the battle plans but also thinking about the team's future. But he wasn't exactly in a position to protest. "I won't waste any more of our time." He pointed down the street with his rapier, and Peregrine gave a reluctant nod.

The atmosphere was tense as The Talon Alliance set off on patrol, and it wasn't because of the villains or the stakes. Even Swansong didn't make any effort to lighten the mood; he was all business. "Can you see anything?" the musician asked Peregrine as she looked around the area with her x-ray vision, slowly making her way down the street after Whitetail.

Peregrine shook her head. "Ugh, I think I lost her."

"Swansong, check the skies?" Whitetail gestured upwards with his sword, and Swansong began to float up into the air to get a better vantage.

Suddenly, Whitetail felt something blunt hit him in the back of the helmet. By the time he turned his head, Peregrine had already heard the noise of the impact and darted forward to catch the object before it hit the ground. "Who threw this?" She held it out to Whitetail for him to examine, forcefully blinking a couple times as her vision returned to normal. It was a bright orange foam football, like a kid's toy.

A figure jumped down from a rooftop, moving fast enough to create a blur, until she landed easily in front of Whitetail and Peregrine. She seemed unaffected by the fall. "Why, Joe did, of course." She smirked at Peregrine.

"Who's J-" Whitetail started to ask, until Peregrine elbowed him and he quickly realized his mistake.

A very small and wiry young teenager stepped out of the shadows to face The Talon Alliance, and Peregrine's account of 'a really strange costume' was pretty accurate. Most notably, she had spiky black hair that was covered by a foam middle finger (that was clearly once a pointer finger glove but had been modified) that she was wearing as a hat.

"Hey… kid?" Peregrine cocked her head

"That's, um, a nice costume," Swansong added as he touched down next to Whitetail and Peregrine.

The teen that Peregrine had been tracking was wearing a bizarre outfit that looked like it was cobbled together: a frilly purple tutu, a black faux leather vest that looked very large on her, and yellow rubber gloves, along with a purple domino mask over her eyes with some purple feathers on it. "I'm The Flying Fuck!" the girl yelled, raising her fists and getting into a fighting stance as she glared at Swansong.

"That's an awful name." Whitetail could almost hear the frown in Swansong's voice as the musician shook his head disapprovingly.

"You're an awful name!" The Flying Fuck shot back, further cementing how young she seemed to be.

"Well, I'm going to call you F," Swansong decided.

"Don't expect me to pay my respects," F snapped back at him with a roll of her eyes.

Whitetail gave Swansong a nod, and he began to float in the air again, lifting his flute and preparing to play.

Then suddenly, true to her name, The Flying Fuck began to soar through the air. She snatched Swansong's flute from his hand and aimed an elbow at his gut. Due to Swansong's power, the tiny, scrawny teenager still outweighed him by a mile, and F's impact sent the musician spiraling towards the ground. Even though his trajectory still looked as graceful as always, Peregrine sped over to catch him, and he seemed a little shaken and winded.

Whitetail gasped. Flight—true flight, unlike Cyrus' weightlessness—was one of the rarest meta abilities. And it was in his gene pool, dormant somewhere. He wished that he could fly like his mother. It would make so many things so much easier. But instead, some stupid, reckless teenager was using the coveted power against them.

Whitetail stepped forward. "We don't intend to hurt you. Please calm down."

"Your mom needs to calm down." The scrawny teen blew a raspberry at Whitetail, and he must've visibly cringed. The wild, childish insult somehow had hit close to home.

He was trying his best to succeed where Mitzi Vogel had failed, but they were out here fighting a kid? None of this made any sense.

"Where are your parents?" Peregrine called out.

Whitetail noticed the teen flinch slightly, before she glowered at Peregrine. "I don't need 'em, and they don't need me." She flew above Peregrine and tried to punch her, but the sniper quickly sped out of the way.

For a moment, Whitetail's heart went out to the kid. Even though Father was three thousand miles away, he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without their Friday calls, and he still mourned the loss of the mother that he had never truly known.

"What do you want?" Whitetail asked. He was never a warm person, and he, along with Peregrine, wasn't the best with kids, but he tried his best to keep his tone neutral and unthreatening, even if warmth wasn't something he could usually muster by nature.

"First of all, some sweet loot." F held up Swansong's golden flute with a smirk.

Peregrine ran back to Whitetail's side and set Swansong down. "Gah, it's not even actual gold! You don't want that!" the caped hero protested.

"It's shiny enough for me," F responded, casually throwing the flute up into the air and catching it, causing Swansong to cringe.

"Be gentle with that, please."

"Hah, 'please' never got me anywhere," she spat at him.

Peregrine reached for her rifle. She looked at Whitetail and he shook his helmeted head, despite knowing she had access to tranquilizer darts.

"There's no way," he muttered to Peregrine. He had made no move to draw his rapier. It would be bad, to say the least, if they were on the SFDH record attacking a teenager, even a belligerent one. But Swansong couldn't subdue her effectively without his flute. "We're going to have to improvise. Avoid harming her."

"Yeah, you heard him! I'm a kid, you can't hurt me!" F cheered obnoxiously, continuing to wave around Swansong's flute, but now that Whitetail understood a little better, he sensed that there was a certain bitterness behind the childish behavior.

Peregrine ran forwards, her legs a blur as she charged F. However, as soon as Peregrine tried to grab her, she disappeared into thin air.

"You miss me?" F's voice came from right behind Whitetail, as she tried to club him with the flute, but he leaped backwards just in time. She then began to fly again and tried to jump on Whitetail's back. He sidestepped and managed to grab F, finding it was the real one this time.

But suddenly, Whitetail's hands were empty.

"It's not flight!" Peregrine called out. "It's teleportation."

Teleportation was another rare but well-known meta ability. As a physics-based power, it wasn't much more common than flight, though Whitetail could recall a few pro heroes in the city's history that had been able to teleport. Physics powers were the more mysterious ones, and the ones that Pandora Labs needed valuable data on.

"Probably along with illusions or another visual effect of some kind," Peregrine concluded. Whitetail had barely heard her, but the sound of her voice served to break him out of his thoughts.

Now wasn't the time to think about Pandora Labs. The Talon Alliance came first.

Meanwhile, F and Swansong seemed to be at a stalemate. She kept pulling the same maneuver of teleporting a few feet in the air to try and jump on Swansong, but he easily dodged every time. However, she continued to wave his flute just out of reach, no matter how many times he grabbed at it.

Whitetail knew she couldn't keep jumping out at Swansong forever. Many physics-based powers were taxing on the body, which was likely why she only teleported short distances.

"Can you see through the illusions?" Whitetail asked Peregrine.

Peregrine nodded. "I've never tried on illusions before, but it looks like it." She turned her attention to Swansong, who was now surrounded by three copies of F that were all taunting him with various obscene gestures.

"On your left!" Peregrine hollered.

Swansong yelped and clumsily kicked at the F on the left, reminding Whitetail why the musician usually stayed out of combat, but he managed to make contact. The other two Flying Fucks disappeared, and the real one stumbled backwards and scowled, as Peregrine rushed to grab her. But she teleported away again, Swansong's flute still in her hands.

Whitetail looked around frantically, trying to see where she had gone. But instead, he saw a man in a bright red and yellow bodysuit walking down the street, wearing a white cape and a domino mask. It was Celerity, a high ranking pro hero. He looked right at Whitetail and held out a SFDH badge with an angry glare.

What was Celerity doing here?

Whitetail wanted to say something, to assure the pro hero that they were here to help the kid, to insist in the legitimacy of The Talon Alliance, but he froze, staring at the badge with fear as he forgot all of his intentions to help the bitter urchin meta. They were done for. There was no way they were going to go pro after an incident like this on their records, and they would be lucky if they weren't hunted down as criminals. Just like Aether.

"Whitetail, he's not real!" Peregrine's voice vaguely registered somewhere in the back of Whitetail's mind, but his limbs didn't obey his mind. As Celerity ran at Whitetail with super speed, he spoke… but it was in F's voice.

"I fucked your mom last night, gahahaha!" F's voice continued to cackle as 'Celerity' ran circles around Whitetail. He just stared numbly, before F teleported in front of him and kicked him in the shin, causing him to stumble and fall backwards.

But before F could come after Whitetail, Peregrine ran at her, and in one motion, she snatched Swansong's flute back and kicked F's legs out from under her, just as she had done with Cryoblast before.

Peregrine tossed the flute back to Swansong, who was now in the air again, and he caught it, the force sending him floating backwards slightly. Swansong held his flute protectively and prepared to play to subdue F, but before he could, the teen looked around frantically and teleported away from Peregrine.

F reappeared back on her feet behind the sniper. "Later, losers!" she yelled. Then, she created more illusions and they scattered in all directions and fled the scene, foam middle fingers and all.

Peregrine quickly looked around before pointing at the real F and running after, almost faster than Whitetail could process. F looked much worse for wear, but at the last second, they teleported one last time as Peregrine was about to grab them. The speedster fell flat and The Flying Fuck was nowhere in sight.

Whitetail ran over to help Peregrine back up, but as soon as she took his hand she glared at him. "What the hell was that," she snapped at him.

"I know, a kid like that, roaming the streets? She is unlikely to be registered, and metas at that age can be very dangerous. We should report this to the Department."

"I'm not talking about our friend The Flying Fuck," Peregrine responded. Swansong cringed slightly at the name, having just caught up to Whitetail. "You were so distracted! What's going on with you?"

"Yeah man," Swansong added, putting a hand on Whitetail's shoulder. "Is there something that we need to talk about?"

"I'm fine," Whitetail snapped, brushing off the front of his white coat. "Just stressed. I will file a report, as the SFDH should obviously be aware that the kid needs some help and support, but I think it will be best if we just call it off for the night."

"No sleepover tonight?" Swansong asked, and Whitetail almost caved when he heard his hopeful tone, but he couldn't. He had to do this alone, and he had to do it perfectly. Once he had the data, once he knew the perfect course of action, then he could tell his friends about Pandora Labs. This could be a valuable new connection on the path to becoming pro heroes, and Whitetail would never give The Talon Alliance a half-baked plan.

"I have some work to do," he responded. Even though work had never stopped them before.

"Well, goodnight then. Hope you can rest up, cuz you seem like you need it," Peregrine said, hoisting her gun up her back and giving Whitetail a playful punch in the arm, before she ran off, a gray and yellow blur down the street. Or at least Whitetail thought it was affectionate. She still seemed angry.

Swansong seemed a little bit more hesitant to leave Whitetail. "Are you sure you don't-"

"Yes," Whitetail interrupted. "I promise."

Swansong patted Whitetail on the shoulder. "Just… take care, man. We're here for you."

What had Whitetail—no, Martin, ever done to deserve friends as good as Reyna and Cyrus?

The walk back to his apartment was just as somber and tense as when they had left for patrol, just a lot more lonely. He was doing the right thing. He had to be.

When he made it back, it was still eerily quiet. He felt restless and frantic, as if he had to be doing something productive, to keep making strides towards improving The Talon Alliance. However, as soon as he sat down, the idea of doing more research on Pandora Labs suddenly felt very unappealing.

Martin needed a distraction, and there was only one person he trusted that was also removed enough from the current conflict. He dialed the number he had memorized, and it was immediately answered. It was a Saturday night, and like Martin himself, Father wasn't someone who went out a lot.

"Hello, Father."

"Martin! Geez, is it Friday already? What's going on with you?"

Martin could hear the smile in Father's voice, and he smiled back at the rare joke, suddenly realizing how much he missed him and how alone he sometimes felt. "I think I might've found a new job," was what he settled on, hesitating to get right to the point.

"Did your old job not work out?" Father asked.

"Well, it's not a job, really. More like volunteer work, something on the side."

"That's great! What is it going to be like?"

"Well, it's… research."

"You know, whatever you do, I'm happy for you. As long as it isn't the SFDH, but I think that much goes without saying."

Martin went silent at that, clutching his phone more tightly. He remembered telling himself that he could never even dream of working for the organization that had killed his mother, but now here he was, trying to become a superhero.

"You aren't working with the Department of Heroes, are you?" Father finally asked.

"Don't worry Dad, I value my life," he scoffed, and suddenly he felt anger rise up in him.

Of course they were trying to impress the San Francisco Department of Heroes. That was the only way for metas to receive recognition through the pro hero initiative, and maybe one day be as beloved as Cavalier and Celerity instead of feared on the streets. But they were cooperating with the Department's game, not becoming their mindless servants. That was something different, right? The last thing the SFDH needed was to become even more powerful.

"It's just a small independent organization, and I still haven't determined if it will work out, but I'm excited about the research that they're doing. It's biology. Genetics." As much as it pained him, Martin chose to omit the fact that it was research on metas, not wanting his father to worry.

"I'm happy for you, Martin."

Even if Martin disguised it, saying he was interested in getting a job or doing volunteer work, and not mentioning any of the hero parts, he knew that Father wouldn't approve of him concerning himself with any affairs related to metas. It was too dangerous, especially after what had happened to Aether. Besides, Father could see right through Martin's fibs, even more than Peregrine could with her x-ray vision.

"I'm thinking about Mother," Martin blurted out.

"Oh, did… something happen?" Father asked, suddenly concerned.

"Oh, no, not at all," Martin responded instantly. "I'm… always thinking about Mother."

"I am as well. How long has it been, twenty years?" There was silence on both ends of the line.

"Can you… tell me what you know about her power? Her sixth sense?" Martin asked, allowing himself to hang onto the irrational hope that there would be a new lead on Aether that he had previously missed.

"Well, I've told you everything, I'm sure you know that, Martin."

"Father, I'm sure you're weary of this subject, I know that for sure, but I was just wondering. Were you two sure that it was only physical locations that her sixth sense could navigate to?"

"Why do you ask? Did something go wrong with your power?"

That was the question that Martin still was searching for an answer to. "Well, it's pretty obvious that Aether could fly, and I can't, but I know that not all powers are that obvious in their manifestation," he started to think aloud, avoiding the exact question. "I thought that maybe it's possible that she had some aspect of her power that she didn't know about. It's probably more likely that I uncover a variation of Mother's power than I manifest a power that she didn't have."

There had to be a reason why Martin had found Pandora Labs. Just like Damian had said, it was human nature to search for an explanation.

"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that," Father responded. "I always just thought you were lucky for having a pretty inconspicuous power, but that might be a disadvantage if you're trying to find out how it works."

"Exactly. I just want to remain aware of the possibility. To stay safe, of course."

"Well, if anyone can figure it out, I'm sure you can. And maybe you can even ask the people at the lab!"

Martin froze at that, even though he knew there was no way that his father could know about the true nature of Pandora Labs.

"Well, I won't keep you long, you should get to sleep," his father continued, and Martin sighed in relief.

"Thank you for talking. I love you, Dad." The words almost caught in Martin's throat as his eyes fell on the Pandora Labs business card on his dresser, and as soon as he hung up he was suddenly hit by a wave of exhaustion. As usual, his mind wouldn't stop racing, thinking about the young teleporting meta, about sharing his findings with Reyna and Cyrus, about his unregistered and still mysterious power. Could Pandora Labs really give The Talon Alliance the answers that they needed?


I enjoyed getting back to some more action and the world lore keeps growing out of control. That was probably the most cursed fight scene and character in the book, but I think The Flying Fuck serves a purpose in her own way. Hopefully I'll see you in two weeks, and please leave some feedback if you can!