The Things We Do (Under Editing)

Behind Our Masks

Storm kept to his word. Most of the information wasn't public because neither J-Tech nor the police wanted people to know how badly things were going, but HU students had ways of getting access to extra information relevant to their majors. For me that meant an extra handful of J-Tech files.

I dug as deeply as I could into the situation, but, even with the extra files, there wasn't much to find. Storm had essentially promised to curse the project with Murphy's law, and it was working.

I found was that various models refused to start, drove themselves into walls, didn't go any direction but straight, and refused to stop once they started. Each time the designers fixed one problem, another popped up. Usually, the new problem was one that hadn't been a problem before. Of course, when the test model wouldn't start, it could have had any number of other issues.

I might have to applaud him for this.

Despite his breach of routine by taking credit beforehand, Storm still seemed to be untouchable. The police had tried to trace his broadcast during the party, but for whatever reason it hadn't worked. Extra security around J-Tech's facilities was also proving futile. He deserved the title of "phantom" better than I ever could.

Maybe I could hand it over now that I wasn't using it.

My guess was that his tricks had something to do with the Gray brothers. I'd been running their conversation through my head for weeks, trying to fit it into the puzzle, but the more I tried, the more confused I got.

Whatever their part in it, they'd managed to keep the police from picking up on it. Those are the perks of having money I guess: hire whoever you need to do whatever you need to keep you out of hot water.

I should stay out of it, really. It wouldn't do me any good to stick my nose into things. I had my own problems.

If trouble came for me, though, I'd need to be as prepared as possible.

Trouble has a habit of seeking me out, after all.

Maybe I potentially, sort of, also somewhat felt just a little, tiny bit sorry for Elliot... Possibly...

After all, despite how long we'd been at odds, we hadn't been recently, and his family drama was even worse than mine.

He refused to talk about the gala, though. Even without bringing up the topic of his family, it was like he was trying to pretend the entire event hadn't occurred. Not that I could blame him. I wouldn't want to talk about it either if I were him.

I didn't even particularly want to talk about it as being me, but Mel and Kacie didn't share the sentiment. They brought it up at every possible opportunity, asking about people's clothes and if I'd talked to anyone interesting. When I told them that the most interesting person I'd talked to had been Elliot's brother, and who Elliot's brother was, they didn't believe me at first.

Eventually they decided that I had stuck to the story longer than they thought I would keep up that kind of joke.

True to form, when she wasn't bugging me about the gala, Kacie made sure to keep me updated on the city's other villains.

Despite the increasing problems from Storm, the other terrorists were slowly being dealt with, picked off one at a time thanks to Matthew's work as both a detective and as Karma.

Copycat had earned herself a padded cell and years of therapy. The LPD had been unable to sort out which of us had done what crimes, but that didn't really matter as her mental state had collapsed further after her arrest and she'd been deemed a danger to herself as well as others.

Honestly I was just relieved that she wouldn't be able to make yet another attempt on my life. Twice was enough, thank you very much.

With Hangman gone, that was three of us for big players gone. We were falling as quickly as we had risen.

Karma had also managed to round up a good number of smaller threats. Anyone who might have looked at the emptying thrones as an opportunity quickly found themselves behind bars. The city was calmer than it had been in years.

As long as I'd lived here, there had been a handful of masked criminals wreaking havoc. Now, all that remained was Storm. It should have been reassuring. Things were finally over with. But I didn't believe that, not for a second.

As long as Wraith still had his grip around the throat of the city, peace would never last. He'd never let go.

If this was going to end, it would end with a bang bigger than the city had ever been forced to face: a grand finale. Something told me that if that happened, it might be the end of the city itself.