Corpsemaker had walked these streets before, both as Annette Hebert and as the strange fusion of lives she had become, but the city felt subtly different now that she wore the costume. As though the mask and dress had placed an invisible barrier between herself and everyone else.
Nothing about Brockton Bay itself had actually changed. The same broken sidewalks, neglected storefronts, and distant sirens remained exactly as they had always been. Yet she found herself studying everything with a sharper eye, paying attention to details she might once have ignored.
The dress flowed behind her as she moved along the rooftops, her boots finding purchase on weathered concrete with surprising ease. She still wasn't entirely certain whether that came from her magic or from whatever strange physical enhancements it had granted her, but she was beginning to suspect it was both.
Below, a pair of men exchanged something beside a dumpster before disappearing in opposite directions. Two blocks farther down, several figures stood behind a boarded-up storefront, passing small packets between themselves with practiced discretion. None of it appeared particularly unusual by the city’s standards, but Corpsemaker found herself committing every detail to memory anyway: the routes people used, the places they gathered, and the corners they favored when they believed nobody was watching. She doubted any of it would matter tonight, yet she continued watching all the same.
Unfortunately, so focused was she that she nearly walked straight into Lung.
The orb reacted first. A sudden pulse rippled through her awareness, enough to make her freeze atop the rooftop she had been crossing. Then she crouched, almost instinctively.
Voices drifted up from the alley below.
"...told him already." The speaker's English was heavily accented.
Shemira carefully approached the roof's edge and peered downward. Immediately, her stomach tightened as she recognized Lung at once. There were very few people in Brockton Bay who could inspire that kind of reaction simply by existing.
The man stood near the center of the alley, broad-shouldered and imposing even in human form. Several ABB members surrounded him, though they kept their distance without appearing to realize they were doing so. None stood too close, none interrupted him, and even their posture was noticeably more submissive than relaxed.
The gang members were speaking quickly, shifting between English and Japanese often enough that Shemira struggled to follow every word. But what she did understand was enough.
"...brats..."
"...saw too much..."
"...can't leave witnesses..."
One of the men laughed. Lung did not. And the conversation continued.
"...saw the whole thing."
"How many?”
"Four."
"Adults?"
"Kids.”
Silence followed. One of the men adjusted his collar with a furtive glance. "Maybe they didn't understand what they saw."
Lung's answer came immediately. "Doesn't matter."
The alley grew noticeably quieter after that.
Of all the people Corpsemaker might have encountered on her first night wearing a costume, she had somehow managed to find Lung. The man who fought entire teams of heroes, and whose power grew stronger the longer a battle lasted.
There was probably a lesson hidden somewhere in that outcome, though at the moment she found herself far too irritated to identify it.
She slowly leaned back from the edge. Her pulse had quickened, but not from fear. Well, maybe a little fear. But it was mostly from the sudden awareness that she was nowhere near prepared for this.
Her first night out as a fully costumed cape and she had stumbled directly into one of the most dangerous men in the city.
Carefully, she retreated farther across the rooftop until she was no longer directly above the alley. Then she sat down. If she was going to do something incredibly reckless, she should at least think about it first.
The orb drifted in front of her, as if waiting for her decision.
Corpsemaker frowned beneath her mask.
What exactly could she do?
The question felt almost embarrassing. After all, her knowledge of her own abilities remained frustratingly incomplete. She knew the orb could see what she could not and that its awareness somehow became her own. She knew she could siphon life force from another living person, though the thought still sat uneasily with the part of her that was Annette. She was stronger than she should have been, faster as well, and capable of healing with alarming speed. But those discoveries felt more accidental than understood, and that was the extent of what she knew. Hardly enough to challenge Lung. But it would have to do.
She rose slowly to her feet.
Below, the ABB members continued their discussion, oblivious to the woman watching from above. The children were still alive, which meant there was still a window of opportunity, however narrow it might be. Whether she spent that time planning, improvising, or desperately discovering a new aspect of her power remained to be seen, but standing on the rooftop accomplishing nothing was unlikely to save anyone.
She had work to do.