Silvia Stone was a vigilante with only one goal in mind, to give criminals a swift and painful death. As one could imagine, Superman didn't exactly appreciate the bodycount that was mounting. After being thrown into prison, breaking out, and more en...
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That summer night seemed to extend for eternity. The sky was still luminous with starlight, and the moon was full and bright. Getting off Strykers Island had taken a solid half hour of swimming, so by the time her feet kissed the land again she was exhausted.
Water dripped off Silvia's saturated form. It forced her outfit to stick uncomfortably to her skin and strands of her hair to cling together in a matted clump. Silvia shivered at the unwelcome feeling, wiping her face of the thin sheet of droplets that had covered it.
The girl slipped into the sewers and trudged forward, eyes pleading for sleep but mind still wide awake. The handful of escapees from Stryker's Island were running rampant in Metropolis now and Silvia was delighted to see, once she returned home and booted up her laptop, more hit requests come up on the dark web. Hits worth thousands of dollars posted by angry mob bosses, grief stricken families, you name it.
Silvia wasn't going to let that money get a head start on her. So after suiting up in a dry outfit, grabbing a new load of guns and one of the countless stolen smartphones in her drawer, she pulled a trench coat over her suit, stuffed her mask into a pocket and left.
Her first target was... Arnold Wesker? He was a Gothamite...they called him the Ventriloquist or something. He was a lunatic, and probably going to get transferred over to Arkham before that monster decided to smash his way out and flip the place upside down. Silvia had to take to the internet to figure out what the heck happened, because giant purple monsters weren't her usual thing.
Called the Parasite, that thing had apparently been feeding on cockroaches that managed to find their way into his isolation cell for close to a year, and that got him strong enough to break out. After that, all the guards were just protein bars that made him even stronger. He fed on energy, all types of it. Silvia figured that was why Supes just froze him and didn't beat him up.
Making her way out of Southside, Silvia eyed the info on Wesker that her client provided her with on her cellphone. He apparently had a hideout in some pub's basement in downtown Metropolis. She thought of heading that way to ruffle a few feathers on the street to see who'd spill.
The night was quiet, given that it was around 1 am. The streets were mostly empty as Silvia sprinted through alleyways like a ghost. Her movement didn't make a single sound, so the scarce amount of people still out, despite the police curfew in light of the breakout, would never notice her.
It was all going to plan...until she hit 42nd Street near the main plaza. She saw the wrecks of several cars on the street, smashed to pieces and burnt black. "Oh what now...? Just one quiet night...please?" She muttered to herself.
Silvia stopped, then pulled her mask on just in case. The street damage seemed to be incredible and there were stomp marks engraved in the ground. Suddenly, Silvia felt a familiar gust of wind. She spun on her heel. It was Superman...again. His face was worn in a frustrated and annoyed glare.
