The Silk Moth Dream (Season 1 Complete)

EPISODE 19: CLOAK & DAGGER

IRVINE, 2040.

They look so small out there in the ring. Even though Ryan has personally seen to it that they receive the best combat training in all of Sacramento, if not the country, he still can't help but feel that familiar tightness of worry. It's the occupational hazard of bringing your child into the special militarized force you founded, but Ryan supposes that Evie's no longer the child he adopted all those years ago.

The Vermilion Wings Clan's underground fights always draw a small crowd of drunken gamblers, and today's no exception. The bet seems to be made easily for most of them after they size up Evie's scrawny build versus the burly man across from them.

"$10,330 for The Defector," Ryan says, gesturing towards Evie and raising his paddle. An attendant takes note of his bet, while some of the other spectators jeer at him.

"Such a specific price," one man croaks, eyeing Ryan warily. But there is surely nothing out of place. His ops team had outfitted him in a slightly beat-up Sheltersuit and colored his hair to render him unrecognizable. Being out of his uniform this long makes him antsy, but the disguise is impeccable.

"My angel numbers," Ryan responds politely, turning back to the ring. He has no interest in making friends.

The man scoffs at his unfriendliness. "Makes no difference when it goes to my pocket, I guess."

A booming voice surrounds them, lights centering upon the boxing ring in front of them. "This afternoon, we have THE HULK," – scattered cheers roar for the burly man as he raises his arms above his head – "facing off against THE DEFECTOR". There is even more scattered clapping, as well as some snickering, when the light directs itself to Evie's face. Evie, to their credit, doesn't even flinch.

"Everyone here should know the ground rules—" the voice continues, excitement gearing up as the clock shows only a few seconds left until the fight. "–which is that there are no rules when fighting at the Vermillion Wings." A cracking shot whistles through the air. "BEGIN."

The burly man immediately tackles Evie to the ground, his knee against their windpipe. People rush the edge of the ring, clearly taking pleasure in the resonant smacks that occur while his fists pummel upon Evie. Ryan arranges his face into passive stoicism, and checks the clock as though his scowl is purely concerned with his hefty bet.

Evie's hands dart out and snake around The Hulk's thick neck, wrenching him off. He tumbles to the ground with a significant thump, and Evie takes the chance to land a few strategically-placed kicks. The Hulk roars in pain and reaches out again to grab Evie, but they shimmie away gracefully. Every single one of Evie's moves is precise, calculated — just like Ryan had taught them.

In the corner of Ryan's vision, he starts to notice that the crowd around them is gradually growing larger as passerbys, likely other members of the clan, take note of the brawl. The gamblers had expected this to be an easy win and it's clear they hadn't anticipated Evie's lithe fighting.

The clock continues to tick down and The Hulk is unable to land any blows as Evie continues to dance around the ring, landing surgically-precise jabs wherever possible. The Hulk is brutish and strong, but it bears no importance in a fight against someone who can anticipate every unstrategic move. The Hulk's face reddens as his punches get even more harsh, his nail catching against the side of Evie's face and drawing blood. Evie breathes evenly, not even slightly winded.

The Hulk lets out a thunderous scream and with a flick, his arm retracts into his shoulder. The whole crowd is silent while the flesh rolls up like a telescope, sliding into a clean slot in his shoulder socket. A chainsaw emerges, nearly a foot long and roaring to life.