Perk Mage.

Wednesday, April 26

Location: Bike Lane

Operation: Story Time

14:23

“Excuse me?” I asked, my eyes widening in disbelief.

“Yeah, it’s the simplest solution to your problem,” Greg said, shrugging nonchalantly. “It’s not like they’re asking you to hack into the academy’s mainframe or something. Why don’t you just tell her?”

“Because I don’t want her to be with that... disappointment of a human,” I muttered, eyes darting to the side, just as the two bikes behind us veered off in different directions.

Greg raised an eyebrow, the wind whipping his hair back as he pedaled effortlessly ahead. “Does he actually act like a disappointment, or is that just you being dramatic?”

“This guy skips every class except for Tactical Bomb Diffusion and harasses anyone unlucky enough to be in the hallway,” I added bitterly, glancing over my shoulder to see the distant sidewalk blurring by. “That’s why the bathrooms are so clean.”

Greg chuckled, his grin almost impossible to see as his head tilted back. “Okay... bit of a goon, sure. But think about it: if Nikki says no, then Jamal can’t do anything about it. You did what he asked, but Nikki’s the one with the final say. She controls the whole situation. You’re just the wingman—you should be proud!”

“Yeah, figures,” I grumbled, letting the weight of his words sink in as I stared ahead, my eyes focused on the upcoming intersection.

We reached the next intersection, the familiar red hand flashing, signaling us to stop. The rhythm of our pedals slowed as we waited, watching the pedestrian light flicker green in the distance. I glanced over at Greg, his expression unreadable as he kept his gaze fixed on the empty street.

What caught me off guard, though, was the sudden motion—without hesitation, Greg surged forward, pedaling hard toward the crosswalk, disregarding the traffic signal entirely.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I called after him, confusion hitting me like a cold splash of water. “You were supposed to drop me off!”

Greg glanced over at me, then looked behind us, his face shifting from casual to concerned. My heart skipped a beat. I turned just in time to see a girl trailing us, her ponytail swishing rhythmically behind her like a pendulum of intent. She was dressed in a black hoodie, beige cargo pants, and red Converse sneakers—an outfit that seemed perfectly ordinary, but now, it stuck out like a shadow that I couldn’t shake.

I must have missed it before, but now, it was clear: Greg had seen her long ago.

“Go,” I whispered urgently. Greg didn’t hesitate. He pressed his foot to the pedal, surging ahead with alarming speed. The wind whipped through my hair, pushing my helmet against my forehead as the girl kept pace, rhythmic and determined, matching our speed with uncanny precision.

Ahead, another intersection loomed—a wide expanse of gray pavement, a crosswalk marked only by the faintest shadows of oncoming cars. Greg, as if lacking any regard for his own safety, darted across the street, narrowly avoiding an approaching car that screeched to a halt, its horn blasting in protest. The girl followed closely behind, an unrelenting force.

“I thought the plan was to not—” I started to protest, gripping the bike handles tighter as we veered dangerously close to the intersection.

“Is this what you meant by goons? Did Jamal send his minions to mess with us?” Greg shouted over his shoulder, his voice laced with frustration and panic.

“I didn’t say anything to him!” I retorted, my heart hammering in my chest as I struggled to stay balanced.

“You basically told me everything!” Greg yelled, his voice frantic now, panic slipping into his tone.

We swerved sharply into an alleyway, hoping to lose our pursuer in the labyrinth of narrow streets. The concrete walls closed in around us as the noise of the city softened. It didn’t work. The girl followed, her pace unwavering as she cut through the alley.

“Do you have anything?” I asked, my voice strained with desperation. “Can’t you do that body-switching thing or whatever it’s called?”

“Oh sure, just so we can both crash and die for no reason?” Greg snapped, his face twisted in frustration as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a pair of scissors and thrust them toward me. “Here, use this!”

I grabbed the scissors, swinging them at the girl with a quick flick of my wrist. To my shock, she caught them effortlessly with one hand, a smirk tugging at her lips as she stepped forward, her movements controlled and precise. My heart sank. Was this really happening?

Before I could fully process the situation, a riderless bike rolled into our path, forcing Greg to swerve sharply. The impact sent us crashing to the ground, the pavement unforgiving as I was thrown from the bike, the world spinning in a blur of pain.

As I struggled to recover, I saw two other cyclists approaching—one was a girl with white-dyed hair and a jean jacket, the other a guy dressed head to toe in black. They looked like they belonged to a world I wasn’t prepared for—one I wasn’t ready to enter.

“Alright, chill out!” Greg said, raising his hands in a show of surrender. “Connor’s going to tell her, okay? It’s fine!”

“Hand us Connor,” the girl in the hoodie demanded, stepping off her bike with slow, deliberate movements. She held a long stick that she lowered to the ground with an eerie calmness, her gaze fixed on me like a predator sizing up its prey.

We were trapped in the alley—no way out, no escape. The narrow space seemed to close in on us, the walls looming higher with every passing second. It was the perfect place for an ambush. If things went south, there would be no one to hear us scream.

“Is this really that serious?” Greg asked, his voice tightening, fear threading through his words. “Come on, is it?”

“Who are you to him?” the guy in black demanded, his voice cold and calculating, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Does that matter?” Greg shot back, his tone defiant, but there was a flicker of fear there, too.

“We’re the ones holding the guns here,” the white-haired girl sneered, a cruel edge to her voice. “So maybe cool it with the snark.”

Greg scoffed. “Were the goons always this cringe?”

I shot him a glare. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

Greg inhaled sharply, his eyes snapping to the three guns now pointed directly at us. My heart dropped. I wasn’t sure if my Perk could handle three bullets at once, but I hoped it would. The girl with the hoodie smirked.

“Hit them with the spray,” she commanded.

“Spray?” Greg and I echoed, alarmed.

The guy in black pulled out a grenade-like object and tossed it toward us. The moment it hit the ground, a burst of pink smoke erupted from it, flooding the alley with thick, noxious fumes. Without thinking, I kicked the grenade away, sending it sailing into the girl with the white hair. It struck her square in the face, knocking her back onto the ground in a heap.

That’s when the fight started.

Shurikens came flying at me from the guy in black, the metal blades slicing through the air like deadly wasps. I dodged the first one, narrowly avoiding the second by bouncing off the alley wall to close the distance between us. I activated my Perk, expecting it to help me—yet nothing happened. The feeling of power was absent. Instead, the guy’s arm began to shimmer, as if something was materializing around it. His forearm shimmered and thickened, coated in a solid metal arm that looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

He threw a devastating combo—two strikes across my face and a powerful blow to my stomach. The pain was sharp, immediate—like I’d just been hit by a bus. But then, something changed. I felt a heat coursing through my arms, a glow that built from my core.

With a roar, I stomped on the ground, tearing a chunk of pavement loose. I hurled it at him with everything I had. The rock struck him square in the chest, sending him flying backward into the alley wall. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious. His metallic arm flickered and died, and the strange glow in his eyes dimmed.

I turned to face the others, but what I saw made my stomach plummet. The girl in the hoodie had Greg in a chokehold, her wand pressed tight against his throat.

“Let him go!” I shouted, my voice laced with panic. “He has nothing to do with this!”

She smirked, her grip tightening. “Of course you’d say that.”

I ran toward her, my heart pounding, but before I could reach her, two more clones of her appeared out of nowhere, blocking my path. “Give me a second, would ya?” she mocked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I gritted my teeth, frustration bubbling up as I faced the clones, who attacked in perfect sync. I held my own, dodging their punches and blocking their strikes, but they were too fast. Still, I could keep up—barely. My focus was on Greg. I had to get to him.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally took down the clones, watching them disintegrate into nothingness.

I looked at Greg, gasping as the hoodie girl tightened her grip. That’s when it hit me.

“Transfer!” I shouted.

Greg’s body went limp, and the hoodie girl’s hold weakened as she tried to adjust. I used the moment to push a burst of wind energy, sending her flying backward, her body crashing against the wall with a sickening thud.

I didn’t mean for her to land in front of an oncoming SUV. But sometimes, fate has a way of dealing the cards. The car swerved, sending her hurtling into the street.

Greg coughed, his breath ragged as he recovered. “Connor! Couldn’t you have waited a few seconds? I felt the pain of getting hit by a car!”

“Had to do something,” I said, offering a weak grin.