Linh hadn't planned on being involved in an armed robbery today, but these sorts of things just seemed to happen around her.

  She had been running some errands for Mum on her way home from school. Nothing fancy, just picking up a few things for the restaurant. She stopped at the Asian grocer on the corner on her way home, grabbed some soy sauce, both light and dark, and a jar of prawn paste.

  She chatted politely with Mr Cheng behind the counter, declining another invitation to meet his grandson. She had learnt a while back that the grandson in question was in his thirties and happily married with kids. That didn't stop Mr Cheng though. Linh knew he wasn't being creepy, just old and senile, so she just smiled and said “Maybe next time, Mum needs me at the store” for the third time that week before paying and moving on.

  She had stopped to tie her shoe, ducking out of the way into one of the aisles so that no one would trip over her, when the goons entered. Three guys in ski masks and hoodies burst in, two with bats, one with a gun. They didn't spot her as they advanced on the counter, too busy screaming at Mr Cheng to check their surroundings.

  Linh froze, debating what she should do. She could just slip out the door, but that didn't feel right, just leaving Mr Cheng here with them. Nor was she about to just jump in and try to do something, that was a good way for someone to get hurt. No, with just her and Cheng in the store, it was better for her to just wait for them to leave, then check on the elderly man.

  Unfortunately, as seemed to always be the case, life had other plans. She watched with horror as Mr Cheng doubled over, clutching at his chest in pain. The robbers, seeing this, took advantage. One of them shoved the elderly man aside, sending him sprawling into the instant ramen while the others hopped the counter and began attempting to open the register.

  Linh stared at Mr Cheng, who was curled up on the floor, thugs ransacking his shop. She should sneak out, call the police, and an ambulance, and wait for help. But one look at Mr Cheng told her that he couldn't wait for help. He needed help, and he needed it now.

  “Can I really just watch him die?” Linh thought to herself. The answer was obvious.

  No.

  Fuck that.

  She wasn't about to just let the nice old man die on the floor while some assholes stole everything he owned.

  Fuck that, and fuck them.

  “Right,” she said, “It's ass kicking time.”

  In another world, Linh would quietly slip a mask over her face, then sneak up and take the thugs by surprise. In an ideal world nice old men wouldn't be dying on the floor while three men robbed his store, but the world didn't work like that. Nor did Linh’s powers. Instead, she quietly set her bag to one side, stood up, then leapt into view, assuming her pose as she shouted.

  “Moonlight flows, Jade Rabbit shows!”

  Linh was surrounded by a bright, silver glow that danced around her, a moonbeam descending from… the ceiling she guessed to envelop her. She twirled, her school uniform twisting and changing colours until she was clad in an elaborate Ao Dai the colour of rich jade. Her hair began to sparkle with specks of starlight and her long rabbit ears twitched as they responded to the noise of the street outside.

  Linh wasn't sure how she felt about the ears. But, they did give her an extra few inches of height, and she needed all the help she could get in that regard.

  Besides, even she had to admit that they suited her.

  Linh finished her twirl, ending in a dramatic (and cute as hell) pose, the robbers staring blankly at her.

  “What the fu…” said the guy with the gun. Linh assumed he meant to finish that thought with the word “fuck”, but the sentence was cut off by her foot arriving on his face.

  There was a crack that had even Linh wincing, until she remembered that these guys were currently scaring her favourite senile pervert to death, and she flipped back, landing on her feet while the dude hit the counter, and then the floor.

  Her plan had been to quickly take care of the guy with the gun before he could get a shot off, and she had been successful. He didn't get a single shot off before he dropped the gun from his senseless fingers. Unfortunately, whatever cheap piece of crap he had scrounged up from who knows where didn't appear to have drop protection, and the gun went off as it hit the floor.

  The two remaining thugs ducked as the gun went off, and Linh covered her ears. The downside of super hearing was that guns were LOUD.

  The bullet missed Mr Cheng, thank fuck. It even missed Linh, which was a neat change of pace. The guy behind the counter wasn't so lucky. It clipped him in the ankle, and he went down, holding his leg.

  Linh stared at him for a moment. Two birds with one stone, another win for Linh.

  The remaining asshole was backing up, pointing his bat at Linh like it was a magic wand. Linh didn't hesitate, she hopped forward, placing one hand on the counter and flipped over it, twisting in mid air. The sleeves of her Ao Dai stretched and twisted, quickly entangling the man even as he struggled uselessly. The end of the cloth detached from her sleeve and snapped shut around him, leaving him immobilised and wrapped in silk.

  She quickly performed the same feat on the one who was holding his ankle, making sure to bind the wound as she did so, she didn't want the idiot bleeding out after all.

  She leapt back over the counter, wrapped up the last guy, making sure to kick the gun away from him, then rushed to Mr Cheng's side.

  It was bad, even she could tell that, so she wasted no time. She placed her hands on his chest and focused, feeling the moonlight in her core. She channelled it, circled it through her body and pushed, willing the power to spread through Mr Cheng.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “Please work please work,” she muttered, as she watched the old man begin to glow with moonlight.

  To her immense relief, it seemed to do the trick, and his restless moans slowed, and then stopped.

  She checked his pulse quickly, just to make sure she hadn't just accidentally killed him, (she hadn't, phew), and stood, wiping her brow.

  “Wow,” she said, taking in the scene “Ass kicking is hard work.”

  That was when she heard the applause. She turned to see a small group of people standing at the store’s window. All were looking at her, some were applauding. Others were filming. Now that she wasn't focusing on Mr Cheng, she could also hear the sound of approaching sirens.

  “That's my cue to leave,” she said, and with one last look at Mr Cheng, she vanished in a cloud of lotus blossoms. She reappeared in the alley outside the store, and was soon leaping across the roof tops.

  Five minutes later she appeared back in the store, blushing as she collected her bag from where she had left it, before she teleported out again.

  Mum would kill her if she forgot the soy sauce again.

  Beacon groaned and stretched. He was not built for desk work. It was late, long after he should have finished for the night, instead he was in his office, his fourth cup of coffee going cold on his desk. The Doctor would be annoyed if she saw the cup, but even he needed his vices.

  A pile of folders lay strewn across his desk. It would have been easier to pull them up on his tablet, but he found it strained his eyes to do that, artificial light didn't agree with him. Instead, an orb of his own power hovered where the ceiling light should be, giving him the illumination he needed to browse the files.

  With Skip having completed his traineeship and the team having an empty slot, he was in the process of reviewing potential new recruits. So far the results were not promising.

  Every one of them was squeaky clean. Too clean. Just a horde of faceless, perfectly crafted PR drones. The sort of hero too focused on image to remember what the job was really about. Helping people.

  Of the candidates, there was one that maybe had potential. He flipped open the file.

  FILE: APPLICANT REVIEW — PROVISIONAL HERO LICENSING

  NAME: Taylor, Bradley J.

  ALIAS: Edgeblade

  AGE: 18

  ETHNICITY: Caucasian (Anglo-Australian)

  HEIGHT: 188cm

  TRAINING ACADEMY: Southern Cross Academy

  GRADUATION STATUS: Certified

  PRIMARY FIELD INSTRUCTOR: Calderon, M. (Ret.)

  CURRENT SPONSORSHIP: Independent / Self-funded

  RELEVANT WORK EXPERIENCE:

  Urban Search and Rescue Internship (Tier C Deployment, 6 weeks)

  Security Patrol Rotation, Gold Coast CBD (Tier D), 14 incidents logged

  Guest Appearance: Hero Hour Reality Series, S2E8 ("Blades of Glory")

  ABILITY PROFILE:

  Psionic Weapon Constructs

  Generates short-to-medium range force blades (melee + thrown)

  Limited tactical utility beyond direct engagement

  No recorded ranged, stealth, or defensive augmentations

  ACADEMIC PERFORMANCE:

  Power Control: B

  Tactical Theory: C

  Ethics & Conduct: B+

  Physical Fitness: A-

  DISCIPLINARY RECORD:

  1x Infraction: Unauthorized promotional content filmed on academy grounds

  1x Verbal Warning: Insubordination during team drill (failure to follow command hierarchy)

  NOTES:

  High self-promotion aptitude; maintains active media presence

  Costume and gear privately commissioned (non-standard regulation compliant)

  Recommended for provisional field placement (low-risk urban assignment)

  He had seen the kid in action. He was skilled enough, but he would need heavy retraining. He had an ego, and in the field, that got people killed. It could be fixed, Beacon had done it before, but it would be a long process.

  He grabbed his mug and took a swig. He grimaced, and stuck his finger in, channelling power until the coffee was steaming again. It wasn't the most noble use of his abilities, but it was convenient.

  He snapped the file shut, and tossed it back onto the pile. He had been delaying his decision for some time now, hoping a proper candidate would come along, but it was looking as if he would have to take this Taylor boy.

  An alert on his computer drew his attention, one of the intel people had flagged a video for his attention. He fumbled away with the mouse for a bit, he swore they made these damn things harder to work every week, and managed to bring up the video.

  It was security camera footage from what appeared to be an Asian grocer. Attached to it was a brief description.

  Unregistered power user: Pending possible investigation.

  It was dated from this morning.

  Beacon sighed. It was probably some kid robbing a store with a fireball or something. Minor, barely worth his time, but still his problem.

  He hit play, and watched as three armed men burst into the store. He took another sip from his now warm coffee as he watched the girl customer peek around the shelves. His eyebrow raised when the clerk fell over, clutching his chest. Beacon blinked as the girl leapt into view. The video lacked audio, but he could almost hear the shouted catchphrase regardless.

  He was caught off guard when she transformed, and impressed as she quickly dealt with the three men.

  He was really impressed when she immediately secured the criminals, making sure to provide attention to the injured one, and removed their firearm from the equation. That spoke to training and good judgement.

  When she placed her hands on the clerk’s chest and stabilised him with what looked like a burst of light, he sat up and looked closer. He nodded as she made her exit the moment the situation was resolved, and chuckled when she came back for her bag. Trained? Maybe. Inexperienced? Definitely.

  He replayed the video, paying greater attention to the way she moved, the way she assessed the situation. He nodded to himself. The girl was young, that was very clear. But she had potential.

  Beacon grabbed his phone, and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he needed.

  “It's Beacon,” he said when the call connected. “I need you to find someone for me. I’ll send you the video.”

  Beacon sat back in his chair. He would have to meet this girl.

  “I cannot believe that you forgot your bag,” Jazz said.

  Jazz, Linh’s best (and only) friend, was sitting on the edge of Linh’s desk, long legs trailing to the floor. Linh had barely gotten through the classroom door that morning before Jazz had pounced on her.

  “I saw the video, why didn't you call me? Tell me everything,” she had demanded, dragging Linh to their usual desks the moment she had laid eyes on Linh.

  Linh had tried to refuse to talk about it until after school, where they wouldn't be overheard, but Jazz was having none of that. And Jazz, like usual, got her way. Linh found it impossible to resist her much taller friend.

  So she had spilled the beans, and Jazz had laughed and cheered as if she was there. To Linh's relief, no one else took notice, that was just Jazz. Loud, gorgeous and confident. Jazz wore her mother's features on her father's height, and the resulting nearly six-foot half-Chinese bombshell drew the gaze of every boy in the class. A gaze which Jazz enjoyed. Linh meanwhile, was happy to just hide in her friend's shadow, a feat that got far easier when Jazz shot up in height over the last few years, leaving Linh far behind.

  “Still, you were awesome. I mean, the video was crap and we barely saw any of it, but still. Awesome.” Jazz continued, bringing Linh out of her musings.

  “It wasn't much, just some normal guys with bats,” Linh said, flushing. Jazz’s praise always made her feel a little flustered.

  Jazz stared at her, before bending over and squeezing Linh’s head in a big hug.

  “Girl, you saved that guy’s life. Also? Guys with bats? News flash sweetheart, one of them had a gun. Guns kill people!” Jazz said, mussing Linh’s hair.

  Linh squeaked and pushed Jazz away, attempting to fix her hair. Jazz laughed and let her go, leaning back on her palms.

  “Seriously though, you were hot, even with the bunny ears. When everyone finds out the boys will be all over you.”

  “I don't want the boys all over me,” Linh protested, checking her hair in her phone’s camera. Super frizzy. Great. She pulled her brush from her bag, only for Jazz to snatch it from her and stand up. Jazz moved behind Linh and started fixing the damage for her.

  “Really? Not even Gary? He's super cute.”

  Linh started to shake her head before Jazz stopped her.

  “Gary?” Linh asked, “Like, Gary Stokes?”

  “Yeah,” Jazz agreed, “You guys would be cute together.”

  Linh frowned, “Aren't you dating him?”

  Jazz chuckled, “Gary? No, he’s a side piece. He's cute but you can have him.”

  Linh rolled her eyes. She sometimes had trouble keeping up with Jazz’s love life, even though she knew for a fact her friend was still pining over that guy from the local band.

  “No, I’m good,” Linh replied, “You keep him.”

  “Mmm, I think I will,” Jazz agreed, then she held her hand out in front of Linh.

  “Scrunchies,” she demanded, and Linh fished a pair of big, fuzzy green scrunchies out of her bag and handed them over.

  “So,” Jazz said, beginning to bundle Linh’s hair up into a pair of pigtails, “What did you Mum do when she found out?”

  Linh groaned, and slumped forward. Jazz tugged her back upright. “Don't move,” she scolded.

  “I haven't told her yet,” Linh confessed.

  Jazz froze for a moment.

  “Girl, you have got to tell her. She’s going to find out.”

  “I know,” Linh said, “But you know how she is.”

  “Mmm.” Jazz agreed.

  “I’d rather face those guys with guns than your mum,” Jazz admitted, “And I don't even have your magical kung fu powers.”

  “It’s not Kung Fu,” Linh protested, and Jazz snorted.

  “Fine, Karate, Tai Chi, whatever. My point stands.”

  Linh sighed. Jazz, as usual, was right.

  “She's going to kill me…” Linh muttered.

  Jazz finished her work, and moved back to inspect it from the front.

  “Then you'll die with great hair,” she declared, pleased with the results. She handed Linh back her brush.

  “Hair is the least of my concerns right now,” Linh said. Which was only reinforced by the sound of the PA crackling to life.

  “Would

  Mai-Linh Le please report to the Front Office?” came the voice, and Linh groaned again. Even Jazz winced at that one.

  “I am so dead,” Linh said.

  “Don't worry babe,” Jazz said, patting her on the head, “I’ll dig you back up after she buries you.”