Zar found herself in a strange and dim region, cold and heavy with the remnants of something burned. It wasn't a familiar kind of burning - it didn't hold the rich, crackling heat she knew, the warmth that sang from within her own being. Instead, there was a strange and bitter scent, full of sharp, unpleasant undertones that clung to her new senses like a shadow.

This was where she had moved those frail figures, shielding them from the fire. Why had she done that? There'd been a presence, unfamiliar and insistent, that had brushed against her mind, whispering promises of power and freedom if she stepped through the flame. And yet, now that she was here, those promises felt hollow. Instead of power, she felt trapped, shackled to this strange, rigid form that seemed to mirror the other beings she'd seen.

Her body moved, driven by the impetus of thought, and though her form responded well enough, everything felt limited, unnatural. She understood the basics - she could bend these limbs, push off the ground - but why was she confined to this flat, unmoving plane below her? She crouched and pushed upward, but she could only lift herself a short distance, and only for a heartbeat before some invisible pull yanked her back down. This place was alien, its rules unfamiliar and binding.

In place of fire, this world was filled with a thin, biting substance that was everywhere but seemed to resist her warmth. She could sense a faint pressure against her surface, like a presence that was there but unseen. It crept along her form, brushing against her like a hostile wave, and she growled at it in irritation, the sound new and strange in her own ears.

On the ground was something even colder - a scattered substance, shifting and rolling around her footsteps. It seemed to move with her, but when she tried to follow it, it gathered into a thin line that slid into an opening in the surface and vanished.

She realised that she had been here before, at the moment of her arrival. But the space was different now. Gone was the fire, the light and noise. The lively beings were absent, and instead, dark, empty shapes loomed around her, rigid yet broken, like echoes of something she'd glimpsed only briefly. She sensed that the container was an empty husk now, the shapes sharp but hollow, the upper surface split open, shattered. The space felt wounded, broken, silent and strange. This place wasn't as permanent as she'd assumed the solid world to be. Somehow, it had been torn apart and emptied out, leaving only cold shadows behind.

Zar moved aimlessly, testing each step in this strange, cold world. She didn't know what to look for, let alone what to do next. All she could determine was that her solid form was unable to pass through the other shapes around her. Her feet made contact with the cold, unforgiving surfaces, and she found herself blocked by larger forms unless she found gaps in their structure - narrow openings or strange little channels leading inside. Why had this realm trapped her in such a cumbersome shape?

The creatures who called this place home must know more. Her master had easily led her into a container and sealed it shut; they clearly had some kind of control over these solids. They navigated this realm with apparent ease and sealed these spaces with purpose. She pondered their methods, wondering what knowledge they held about the structure and rules of this world.

There was so much to understand.

As Zar wandered through the unfamiliar terrain, her attention was drawn to the faint glimmers of light ahead. Scattered through the darkness, they flickered and glowed, as if beckoning her. She moved toward them without quite understanding why; the lights had a purposefulness that intrigued her, a rare sign of intention in this otherwise bewildering world.

She found herself instinctively drawn to the flat stretches that lay between the larger structures. Unlike the rough, unyielding surfaces around them, these paths seemed deliberate, stretching in orderly lines and curves. Even her limited understanding picked up on the patterns: each path led somewhere, connecting parts of this strange realm in ways that almost made sense. Perhaps they served as guides, like channels for her energy, directing movement and interaction in a way she could follow.

The nearer Zar moved to the distant lights, the more she noticed the changing nature of the world around her. Sound had begun to flow more freely here, rising and falling in strange, rhythmic waves that she couldn't quite parse but found oddly compelling. The dark shapes clustered closer together, forming walls and hollows, with occasional glows spilling out from gaps in their surfaces.

The broad path split off and twisted, lined by smaller, winding trails that seemed designed with purpose, though she couldn't fathom what. She sensed the arrangement was deliberate, guiding her movement in subtle ways, and she followed it cautiously, alert to any changes in the strange new landscape. This wasn't like her realm, with its limitless openness and power; here, everything seemed bound to a rigid structure.

Then, something hurtled toward her. Two brilliant, blinding eyes bore down, growing impossibly fast, followed by a heavy, rumbling tremor that pulsed through the ground. Zar felt her form stiffen as the mighty form surged past, trailing a concussive wake that raked across her skin. It was some kind of creature, she guessed, and these pathways were placed to guide it.

Another one swept by, a little slower this time, the lights flashing on and off as if signalling to her. She took a step back, eyes narrowed, trying to understand the pattern of its movement. They followed the lines marked on the ground without wavering, their paths as set as the surface beneath her feet.

Zar continued forward, staying to the edges, studying the routes the other creatures took as they passed. Her curiosity mounted as she neared the lights that dotted the path ahead, each casting a circle of soft, even glow on the ground. She felt a pull toward them, a kind of lure she couldn't explain, and continued to follow the winding paths, wondering where they might lead in this strange, structured world.

She glimpsed some of the bipedal creatures, tall new forms that matched her own, as least in approximate shape. They moved with an ease that hinted at their mastery of this realm, slipping through shadows or into brightly lit openings without pause. Each seemed preoccupied, intent on some path or purpose known onto to themselves. Zar caught their stares - quick wary glances, which they immediately broke as she passed.

It struck her as odd. In her own realm a newcomer would be met with intrigue or challenge, their presence acknowledged and their intent questioned, but here, these creatures held back, giving her a wide berth as though she were some unsettling phenomenon best avoided. She watched them in turn, perplexed. Did they not wonder who or what she was, this strange figure wandering into their world?

Perhaps, she reasoned, they simply lacked the capacity. This realm was cold and constricted; maybe curiosity was not part of it. Or, perhaps, they were simply? limited. Zar slowed her steps, observing more closely, wondering if any would approach, if any would offer answers to the many questions gathering in her mind.

Her master had asked questions; who was she? How did she arrive at that location? In truth she had no good answers, which must have disappointed him.

This form she wore, this solid, limited shape, felt horribly alien and constricting, and yet? familiar. It bore a name, as if that might define her existence in this place. She was Zar Kael. The sound of it resonated in her mind, strange but somehow fitting, as though it had always been hers, waiting to be uncovered. Yes she couldn't say why she needed it now, or why she hadn't needed one before.

Names were a foolish concept, she thought. Labels to separate the creatures from one another, as though they existed as fragmented things, each solid form bound to its own isolated existence. She's had no need for a name in her realm, where she was simply herself, part of the flame. The thought was unsettling, a flickering reminder of how little she understood this world and her place in it.

Zar Kael. She whispered it to herself, testing the shape of it on her unfamiliar tongue. She had a name, because she was a single, solid thing. She would never again experience the joy of merging with a group, adding her fire to a surging collective before breaking apart and seeking out new minds to encounter. How did these creatures live in a world of such cold, darkness and isolation?

"Are you okay, miss?"

Zar blinked - one of the creatures had approached her, and addressed her. "Okay?" she asked, the word unfamiliar.

"You look lost, and a little sad. And I think your, uh, tail, uh, is on fire."

"Lost. Yes, I am lost." And sad, she realised. Coming to this place had been a mistake.

"You're not, like, a supervillain, are you?"

"I don't think so. I was brought here to be a champion, but there is much I don't understand."

The ragged-looking creature took a cautious step back, eyeing her with both concern and curiosity. "A? champion, huh? That's? well, that's cool, I guess," he said, visibly unsure. "Are you, like, from another dimension or something?"

Zar considered the question, but the concept of "dimension" eluded her. "I was summoned here," she explained slowly, "through a portal of fire. I belong to? a realm of flame."

"Right." He nodded, though the confusion in his eyes only deepened. "Well, uh, welcome to our world, I guess." His gaze dropped to her tail, flickering with vibrant flames that cast dancing shadows around them. "And? do you think you could maybe turn that? tail? down? We're not really built to handle fire up close."

Zar looked at the flames curling behind her, bewildered. "Turn it? down?"

"Y'know, make it? smaller? Less? burny?"

She frowned, trying to grasp the notion. Fire was just fire?why would it need adjustment? But the creature's plea had an odd urgency to it. "I don't know how," she admitted, watching his face for any hints.

"Okay, uh, fair enough." He scratched his head, uncertain. "Look, if you're lost and? maybe dangerous, you probably shouldn't just be wandering around. Do you have anyone with you? Someone who? summoned you?"

She thought of her master, of his commands and his strange questions. "Yes. I think? I do."

The man gave her a sympathetic nod. "Right. Well, maybe finding them again would be a good first step." He glanced around, looking suddenly nervous. "And if you need, uh, directions or anything? just try to ask someone. Maybe one of the superheroes will? know what to do."

"Superhero?" She tasted the word, intrigued. Was that what her master was?

"Yeah. They're kind of like champions, too," he offered, a bit warily. "So, maybe they could help." He took a slow step backward, then added, "Good luck, miss."

Zar watched as he hurried off into the night, leaving her with a new word, a strange description, and even more questions.

= = =

"Unit fifteen, we have a 10-88 on West Lexington, near the currency exchange." Officer Jenks groaned, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on him. A 10-88 signalled an unregistered superhuman - a potential threat. New supers were a nightmare waiting to happen; they were supposed to register with the mayor's office, not just roam the streets at night like lost souls looking for trouble.

"Roger that, dispatch. On our way," he replied, his voice steady despite the unease gnawing at him.

What would he find when he got there? He scanned his memory for any recent reports of 10-88s, but each incident seemed to be more chaotic than the last. He imagined something glaringly obvious prompting the call - maybe the person was decked out in a flashy costume, wielding a weapon, or flaunting some flashy powers - flying overhead or hurling bolts of lightning. Or perhaps it was something more bizarre; he recalled the story of a kid who tried to rob a gas station armed with nothing but glowing contact lenses and a whole lot of moxie.

The thought made him shake his head. There was always something weird lurking in the shadows of the city, and tonight, it felt like he was about to stumble into yet another mess.

= = =

By day, Theo Kourakos and his brother ran a modest pawn shop, the two of them immersed in a world of haggling and bartering. But when the sun dipped below the horizon, Theo shed his civilian identity and transformed into something altogether different. The streets became his domain, and under the cloak of night, he wielded his formidable skills and trusty blunt instruments to enact his own brand of justice. It never ceased to amaze him how many people unwittingly offered up stolen goods to his shop, nor how much tantalising gossip he could unearth simply by knowing how to listen.

Listening was just one of his many talents, and Theo was merely one of his names. Cloaked in darkness, clad in an armoured jacket and a crash helmet that shielded his identity, he became Nightstick Nick - the bringer of justice and pain, patrolling the city on his battered motorbike. Meanwhile, his brother Alex remained at their shop, attuned to their police-band scanner, dutifully relaying the urgent alerts, including the ominous 10-88 notices that spoke of unregistered metahumans.

With adrenaline surging through him at the mention of a potential threat, Nick revved the engine of his bike, the sound echoing through the quiet streets as he raced down Kedzie Avenue. He skidded to a halt by the bus stop, his heart pounding with anticipation for whatever awaited him next.


There were no flashing lights yet - Nick was first one the scene. He scanned the quiet streets, instincts on high alert, his experienced eyes sweeping for anything out of the ordinary. A faint flicker of orange caught his attention, shifting near the mouth of an alley. Fire, where there should be only darkness.

He moved quickly, without hesitation. He unslung his bat - a Louisville Slugger, its matte-black spray-painted aluminium barrel cool and light in his hands. From further down the street he could make out two male voices, arguing, their words low but urgent. The flame darted into the narrow passage, the glow giving him an easy target to follow.

Nick picked up his pace, closing the distance, and soon the alley came into view. Two street thugs stood squaring off against an imposing figure - a towering woman, dressed in rags but powerfully built, limbs thick with muscle like a power-lifter. Most striking and shocking of all was her tail, blazing with fire that crackled and danced against the night. As Nick took in the scene, he immediately linked her to the warehouse fire that had blazed up just hours earlier.

Coincidences weren't something Nightstick Nick believed in.

"Stand down!" he commanded, his voice between the narrow alley walls. The woman's head snapped around to face him, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion. She wasn't merely black, as he'd initially thought - her skin was a deep glossy grey, as if carved from stone. Her eyes burned like embers, the fiery glow hinting at powers beyond the norm.

"Stand? down?" She echoed his words, crouched slightly as if trying to interpret his words. Then she seemed to abandon the effort, shrugging and straightening back into a defensive stance, her gaze locked onto him, unblinking. She had no weapon and no visible armour, but Nick had tangled with supers before; there was always some surprise. The tail and those blazing eyes were obvious signs that she had fire-based abilities, and he wasn't going to wait for her to use them.

= = =

Zar steadied herself, her mind racing. This small creature, with the huge, bulbous head, had dared to strike her, and she was surprised by the sheer audacity. She flexed her shoulder where the impact had landed. The blow hadn't caused her harm, but the intensity of it had shocked her. And this second hit, a jarring smack to her lower body - she had tried to intercept but misjudged the speed and power. She could feel a residual sensation, an afterglow of the energy it had taken to deflect it. This was pain? She disliked it.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes. "You attack me? Why?"

The creature's eyes were barely visible inside its head, but glared back at her with open hostility. "Because you're a monster. I'm gonna take you down before you cause any more damage." He raised his weapon - a solid, blunt object that extended his reach - and swung again, a determined arc aimed at her legs. Zar moved more quickly this time, blocking the weapon and taking the blow against her forearm. The shock reverberated through her, sharp and alien. Her instincts bristled, something awakening inside her.

"You fool! I am a champion!" she roared. "Cease this hostility!"

A familiar warmth stirred within her chest - her fire. She felt it surge to her hands, and with a wild grin, she willed it forth. Flames leapt to life in her palms, flickering and casting a warm glow over the dark alley. At last, a fragment of her true nature! She glanced down at her hands, mesmerised by the fire curling around her fingers. She held them out, displaying the truth of her nature. She was an avatar of fire, summoned here to help.

The creature took a step back, seemingly unimpressed by her flames, and swung at her once more. This time, she caught the weapon mid-swing. It felt cold, almost lifeless, but under her touch, the metal began to heat and shift, turning red-hot. It softened in her grip, as if her very touch was melting it. She stared at the shifting form with fascination, watching the metal grow weaker, pliable. It was? less-solid. What was the word? <I>Soft</I>.

The creature cried out, his grip loosening as he backed away, his strangely reflective face now displaying a glimmer of fear.

A sharp, sudden pressure jolted her from behind. Pain stabbed her, not blunt but precise - a puncture. She spun around, her eyes flaring. Another one of these creatures had joined the fray, and apparently paid the price, and now, somehow, he was alight. Flames had sprung up on his hand and arm, licking at his clothes. He yelped in alarm as the other creature swatted at the fire, desperate to extinguish it.

Zar tilted her head, frowning, perplexed. "What did you do?" she asked, but instead of replying, they turned and ran, stumbling over each other in their rush to escape her.

She twisted her body, awkwardly, and raised her hand to her back. Her fingers brushed over the area where the pain had pierced her. The strange pressure was gone, and as she felt along her skin, there was no wound?only smooth, untouched flesh. She flexed her shoulders, feeling the lingering discomfort but no injury. Whatever had struck her seemed to leave no lasting harm. She smiled, the flames in her hands flaring brighter. She would have to learn the ways of this new world, where weapons and fire were wielded by creatures who barely seemed to understand them.

She turned back to the bulbous-headed creature, and smiled. "I mean you no harm, but I will defend myself from attack."

"You gonna burn me, too?" He produced two more blunt weapons from his hip, and readied them. Zar sensed this was the wrong path to take, and pulled the flames back into her flesh. She clenched her fists instead - here was an opportunity to learn fighting, solid-style. Her master would be pleased.

= = =

"Dispatch, this is Unit Fifteen. Requesting an ambulance to the corner of Kedzie and Lexington." Officer Jenks jumped out of his cruiser, rushing toward the fallen vigilante sprawled on the sidewalk. Nightstick Nick was notorious - wanted on a laundry list of assault charges - yet he held a peculiar niche in the city's ecosystem. Some threats were too low-tier for the local supers to care about, but too nebulous and slippery for regular cops to act. That's where Nick came in, doling out his brand of street justice.

Tonight, though, it looked like justice had bitten back, hard. His helmet was a broken ruin, visor gone, the plastic scorched and brittle from fire damage. His arms were trapped behind his back, wrapped in what looked like a twisted metal pipe that ended in a melted blob. Clear finger imprints marked the bright metal, evidence of someone - or something - with inhuman strength. Jenks recognised the shape as once being a metal baseball bat. Nick had butted head with supers before, but never quite bitten off more than he could chew, until now.

Jenks knelt beside him, glancing over the damage. "Nightstick Nick? Just hang tight. Help's on the way." He hesitated, eyeing the battered vigilante. "But?you're also under arrest. You have the right to remain silent - "

"No!" Nick waived that right immediately, coughing. "You gotta watch out for her? she's not what she seems."

Jenks raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-concerned. "I'll keep that in mind, tough guy. Looks like you've had quite the workout. Now, don't go moving. That arm looks broken."

Nick gave a weak laugh. "Yeah. Said she needed to learn how our bodies worked. She's not human. Some kinda fire monster. I couldn't hurt her, she barely flinched."

Chapters...