Day 227

[from Aura of Chaos]

The girl led Xeron and Tara through the Lower Quarter, winding her way through the back alleys and skilfully avoiding any potential trouble. Once or twice a street ruffian would glance over at them, then see that the girl was with them and look away again with a nod, as though silently understanding the situation.

"So, uhh… what's your name?" asked Tara after a little while.

"Martina," said the girl.

"I'm Tara," said Tara. "My friend here is Xeron." She gestured in Xeron's direction.

"Pleasure to meet you, I guess," said Martina.

"So… I'm guessing this place is somewhere here in the Lower Quarter?" asked Tara.

"Well… kinda," said Martina. "It sorta is, and it sorta isn't. You'll see what I mean in a minute. It ain't that far now."

 Sure enough, only a couple of minutes later, Martina came to a halt outside what appeared to be an ordinary herbal remedies shop. "Alright, here we are," she said, lowering her voice. "I gotta tell ya, though, this place is top-secret. Tell nobody about it unless you know they're a Witch. Got that?"

Tara nodded. She was well aware of the need for secrecy among the Witch community, and the potential consequences if the secret ever got out. "Alright, good," said Martina. "Now, follow my lead."

The trio entered the shop. Even now they were inside, it still appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary herbal remedies shop. The air was filled with the scents of dozens of different wild herbs and spices, mixing together into a mild, soothing aroma. It was a very pleasant atmosphere, and much unlike the emporium of arcane books and artefacts that Tara had been expecting. Now that she thought about it, of course, the magical items were most likely kept out back, away from view; putting them on display would be suicide.

Martina strode purposefully towards the elderly man at the front desk, and Xeron and Tara silently followed behind. "Good afternoon," said the old man, bowing slightly. "How may I help you?"

"I'm looking for a spice that reminds me of home," said Martina. "You got anything like that?"

 The old man gave her a knowing smile. "I'm sure I can find something out back," he said. "Are your two friends after such a spice as well?"

Martina nodded. "We all miss our homes very much," she said.

The old man nodded, and pulled a hidden lever under his desk. A small passageway silently opened in the wall behind him, seemingly leading underground. "Then I hope you find what you are looking for," he says. "Go quickly."

"Thanks," said Martina, before heading through the passageway. Xeron and Tara also extended their thanks to the man, before heading in after her.

The passageway did indeed lead underground, and quite some way; there were no lights, and it was hard to see where they were going, especially after the entrance to the passageway slid silently shut behind them. "Will we be able to get back out again?" asked Tara.

"Oh, of course," said Martina. "There's a special knock you'll have to do; I'll show you that on the way out."

"I assume what you told him was some kind of secret code?" said Xeron.

"The stuff about a spice that reminds me of home?" asked Martina. "Yeah, that's the entry code. It's shows you're a Witch… or at least, someone who can be trusted. If you don't know the code, this is just a place that sells herbal remedies. But if you do…"

Xeron and Tara noticed that the tunnel was starting to get lighter, and as the path levelled out, they suddenly found themselves in what could only be described as an underground marketplace, carved out into the rock and dirt several metres below the city. All around them were shops catering to both Black and White Witches, spelling spell books, potions, conjuring staffs, magical garments, and just about anything else a Witch could ever want. Dozens of Witches milled around the square, some carrying small sacks of goods, others clutching spell books or staves. The whole area was lit with blue torches that were no doubt magical in nature.

"…it becomes a whole lot more," Martina finished triumphantly.

Tara let out a gasp. "Wow… this place is amazing!" she said.

"Sure is," said Martina. "Welcome to the Reservoir: the greatest underground network of Witches in all of Albion. Whatever it is you want - books, staffs, whatever - you'll find it here." She turned to Xeron and Tara, revelling in the looks of awe on their faces. "So, we good now? All forgiven?"

Xeron nodded, an awestruck grin spreading across his face. "Yeah," he said. "We're good."

"Sweet," said Martina. "I'll go talk to my buddies, let 'em know you guys are off-limits. I'll leave you to your shopping; I'll be in the entrance tunnel waiting for you when you're done."

"Okay," said Tara. "Thanks, Martina. I don't know how we would have found this place without you."

"You wouldn't," said Martina, a hint of smugness passing into her expression. "Alright, see ya later then." With that, she headed off, and Xeron and Tara were left alone.

"So… you're the Witch here," said Xeron. "Where do you wanna go first?"

Tara had never been confronted with so many magical items for sale before. She had no idea where to start. She looked all around, taking in the various sights and smells of the Reservoir, growing more bewildered with every glance. "Uhh…"

Day 112

All SHRED operatives, upon completing their training, were assigned a specific city or county to protect. Aaron Price, having completed his own training, had been assigned to Volusia County, Florida; specifically, the coastal city of Silverburg, which was currently under siege from the metallic supervillain known as Titus. Aaron's first assignment, therefore, would be to track down Titus and defeat him, finally bringing his one-man crime spree to an end.

Aaron had received his suit, and it was a lot better than he had been expecting. True to Alice's designs, it was a bright golden-yellow with two electric-blue lightning bolts running down the front. The mask was a simple yellow domino mask, with stylized lightning bolts running down from each eye across his cheeks. According to the suit's technical specifications, it was bullet-proof, stab-proof, and fire-proof, yet it felt surprisingly comfortable and breathable. They had even managed to incorporate the electrically-powered "Jet Boots" that Alice had thought of, allowing him to fly through the air at high-speed in order to quickly attend emergencies. It had taken him a little time to get the hang of using them, but as he flew towards Silverburg in pursuit of Titus, he was having no problems at all, tearing his way through the azure sky as easily as if he were walking.

As he approached the city limits, Martin Barnes' voice sounded in the earpiece he had been given. Martin had been assigned as his handler, tasked with making sure the new hero did as he was told. "Titus has been spotted," said Martin. "He's outside City Hall. Apparently he's waiting for you to come fight him, just like we thought he would." SHRED had made it no secret that they were sending a superhero to Silverburg, in the hopes that Titus would be lured out by the prospect of battle. It seemed as though that plan had been a success.

"Somebody tell him I'm on my way," said Aaron.

"I'm sure he'll be able to see that for himself, soon enough," said Martin. "Alright, good luck, man. With your abilities, this should be a walk in the park, but even so, be careful. This is your first mission, and I'd appreciate it if you came back in one piece."

"So would I," remarked Aaron.

His remark was met with a chuckle from Martin. "You'll do fine, man," he said. "You got this. Now go give 'im hell, Electron." Electron was Aaron's superhero name, decided upon after much brainstorming between himself and Martin. From now on, he was both Aaron Price and Electron. Fortunately, he would have SHRED's support when it came to juggling the two. When it came to fighting as Electron, however, he was on his own.

Electron was flying over the city now. From his vantage point several hundred metres up, he could make out City Hall in the distance, a large white building surrounded by a small park. He could just barely make out a silver dot in front of it; this dot was Titus, waiting for the hero to arrive in order to battle him. This was it. There was no backing down now. It was time to see whether his training had truly paid off.

Day 106

[from Street Racer]

As his fingers curled around the steering wheel of his heavily-modified Nissan Skyline GT-R, Tristan Starr glanced one more time at the smartphone hooked up to the central console. A map of Jade City was displayed on the screen, with the circuit they would be driving laid out upon it in a thick white line. Tristan's green eyes scoured the route, committing as much of it to memory as possible. Once the race began, he would be driving at such high speeds that taking his eyes off the road to check where we was going, even for a second, could spell disaster. He wasn't going to get caught out by such a rookie mistake.

This route map had been created using an app that was ostensibly for mapping out jogging routines, but had been co-opted by the city's sizeable street-racing scene as a means of sharing routes between drivers. The Jade City Police Department were trying to pressure the app stores into pulling the app, but of course they couldn't stop people who already had the apps from using it, and whenever it was removed, two identical ones popped up. The police were fighting a battle against the racers that they seemingly could not win.

Tonight there was yet another street race on. It was a four-lap race, around a short three-kilometre track in the centre of the city. The four contestants were already lined up on the road, with a crowd of several dozen gathered on the sidewalk to watch the action. The roads around were mostly deserted; the city's residents had learned to anticipate when the street races would be taking place, and to stay away from the roads as much as possible during those times. Of course, this would also alert the police, so the group would have to complete the race and disperse as quickly as possible. While they were all gathered together like this, they were much easier to catch than when they were spread all over the city.

 Tristan was the third car along on the starting grid, with two competitors to his left and one to his right.  On his far-left was the modified black-and-yellow Hyundai Genesis Coupe of his friend Alyssa Dalton, one of the first racers he had befriended upon his arrival to Jade City. She'll be the biggest challenge. Between Tristan and Alyssa was a sky-blue-and-black Chevrolet Corvette, driven by a man calling himself T-Bone whom Tristan had heard of but had never driven against before. His car looks faster than it is. Finally, on Tristan's right was a jet-black Ford Focus ST driven by a man named Michael, who appeared to be a newcomer. Not a chance.

The sound of the revving engines and the smell of petrol and tyre smoke filled the air, mixed in with the taste of the cigarette that smouldered gently between Tristan's lips. He knew it was a lethal habit, not to mention an expensive one, and that if he ever achieved his goal of funding a professional racing career, he would have to give it up. He would probably have to give up smoking as well. But he was addicted to them both; the nicotine rush of the cigarettes, and the adrenaline rush of street racing. The drugs coursed through his body, energizing him. They made him feel alive.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tristan could see a girl in a leather jacket and skirt stepping out into the road. He didn't know her name, but she was the lover of one of the various other street racers who had shown up to watch the race. Tonight, she would be acting as the race starter. Tristan kept half an eye on her progress, but his gaze remained mainly focused on the road in front of him. It wasn’t too far to the first corner, and whoever came out of that corner in first place would have the firm advantage. The start was absolutely crucial.

The girl stopped in the exact centre of the road, between Tristan and T-Bone's cars, and the revving of the engines reached a deafening crescendo as the competitors prepared to race. Tristan's eyes flicked downwards for a split second to check that he was revving at the optimal range, for the best possible start off the line. At the side of the track, another girl stood with a digital stopwatch, ready to measure the drivers' times, while Lien Wei, a female friend of Tristan's, was stationed at a tripod video camera that was aligned precisely with the finish line. There had been enough disputes over photo finishes in the past that such a precaution was now seen as a necessity.

The girl raised her hands high in the air, scanning the start/finish line to make sure that all the competitors were ready. A moment later, her arms sliced downwards through the air, and the four cars screamed into life in an explosion of torque and tyre smoke as the race began. The cars accelerated straight past her and roared off towards the first corner, leaving nothing in their wake except a faint haze of smoke and a set of jet-black tyre marks on the worn asphalt.