Midnight Fury

4/1 - Imaginary Man

Classes had ended some time ago, and Evette had still not returned to the apartment. Samieh paced back and forth, periodically checking her phone for any new messages.

She had got a distinct impression earlier that Evette was upset with her, and was anxious for the stoic magicist to return. They could at least try to talk about it.

Of course, there was also the problem of Straker, and the question of who he was and whether or not he was involved as Evette had implied.

These thoughts made Samieh even more anxious, and when she was anxious there was only one thing that she felt like doing.

"Time to suit up."

Samieh opened her closet and began to take out the individual pieces of her Midnight Fury costume. She changed out of her jeans and turtleneck sweater, and into the dark purple tracksuit which was the base of her costume.

The second part, a black racing swimsuit, squeezed over the tracksuit and helped to emphasize her athletic figure. The crescent moon emblem, constructed from reflective plastic, was permanently pinned to the swimsuit.

Boots and gloves followed. She took off her hijab, letting her long black hair fall over her shoulders, and was soon decked out in her carnival mask to complete the core costume. Combined with the darkness, she was now unrecognizable as Samieh Darvish.

The most striking part of Samieh's costume, the cape, had been ordered online and was nothing special in terms of function.

The only reason it was part of the costume was that it seemed wrong for a superhero not to have one. It added a much-needed mystique to the otherwise absurd concept. When sketching out the initial designs, Samieh had tried several versions without it, but they always ended up looking stupid to her, like she was trying too hard.

In all, the costume had not been given much thought and was a strange jumble of practicality and impulsive self-indulgence. The end result was a labor of love, not skill.

After scribbling out a note for Evette to explain where she was, Samieh, now Midnight Fury, took the stairs to the roof. It was even colder than last night, but the temperature only encouraged her to move faster as she leaped from the roof to the street below, slowing her descent by increasing the air pressure below her.

——Mission: Destroy Spooks.

If Wielders were truly the Spooks' only targets, then fighting them was analogous to popping a zit; while it provided temporary relief it actually worsened the problem. She didn't care. As Samieh Darvish, she was quiet and mild-mannered. As Midnight Fury, she needed action, however illogical.

The first Spook struck less than a minute after touchdown, just a few blocks away from the apartment.

Midnight Fury made short work of it, blasting it with a beam of ionized oxygen and nitrogen.

The next went down just as easily, letting out a shriek which echoed through the streets as it was ripped apart. Midnight Fury smiled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She listened carefully to the now silent street, anticipating her foes' next move.

"Well, well, well, congratulations on your flawless victory..."

A voice rang out, and the masked madam of justice spun around to see its source.

From the shadows of an alley sauntered a dark figure, wearing what appeared to be biker pads over a black hooded fleece. Under the hood, she could see a white, skull-like mask.

Like her costume, his seemed crudely put together and inelegant. Its DIY aesthetic gave it a dangerously unpredictable look—like a homemade switchblade or customized hunting rifle.