“Alright, Chameleon, explain to me your powers.” Miss Claire demands. Clearly in her “lecture mode,” as I like to call it.

  I scoff, “You know my powers, Miss Claire. Why should I explain them?”

  Miss Claire interjects, “This is an exercise for you. Walk me through your powers and your limits. I need to make sure you know them fully.” Miss Claire is now tapping her foot expectantly.

  I sigh and reluctantly begin, “Every super-powered person has an aura placed in their core. Every aura has its own color reflecting the nature of its power. Powered individuals move their aura subconsciously in unique ways to activate their powers. My eyes allow me to perceive those auras. No other person can.”

  I stand up as I begin pacing in circles, getting absorbed in my explanation before continuing, “My aura is clear, I copy other people’s aura movements that I perceive to use their powers as my own. Unless I memorize said movements, it’s a one-time activation for their power before I need to actively copy their movements again…” I pause my movements before further clarifying, “It takes a lot of effort to do so, so unless I'm in dire straits, I shouldn’t expend myself like that and stick to the one-time activation the first time I copy.”

  I then turn to face Miss Claire before finishing my explanation, “The only power I have memorized right now is yours.”

  Miss Claire smiles and claps her hands, “Very good, my little Chameleon. You’re fully ready.” She puts her mask back on. She begins to walk, motioning me to follow her.

  I briskly jog to catch up to her before slowing down to match her pace.

  She begins to speak without turning her head to face me as we continue to walk, “Our target for today is a B Rank hero, his hero name is ‘Mad Hound’. He’s a weak fool and really should be a D Rank, but nepotism sure is a bitch, huh Chameleon?“ her tone is rather bitter. She seems to always get like that when heroes are brought up.

  “What’s nepotism, Miss Claire?” I ask, looking up at her for an answer.

  “Well, you know how heroes are ranked D through A based upon strength. And if you’re in the top 50 strongest, you’re considered a ranker?” Miss Claire replies, looking down at me, expecting me to agree.

  “I know that much, but that doesn’t answer my question.” I scoff. Miss Claire sighed, “My point is that he has the strength of a D tier; however, he is ranked at a B tier because his uncle is a ranker.”

  “So nepotism is getting something you don’t deserve because of family connections?” I clarify while Miss Claire nods and pats my head, “That’s pretty much it, kiddo,” she says.

  I whip my head away from her hand and look back at her as another question pops into my mind, “What’s his power?”

  Miss Claire chuckles darkly, “Glad you asked, kiddo. His power is named ‘Air Slicer’; he swipes his hand, and sharp blade-shaped gusts of wind shoot at the target. He typically swipes his hand in a claw-like position. That’s probably why he calls himself Mad Hound.”

  Miss Claire brings a hand to my shoulder before speaking, “You’re gonna handle him. You can do it.”

  My head whips towards her as my eyes widen behind my mask, “W-What?!” I shout, my voice rising in volume, “It’s my first mission out with you, shouldn’t I watch you handle a hero first before I do it?” I can feel the sweat already dripping down my face.

  A hearty laugh escapes Miss Claire, “You’re a riot, kiddo! Seriously, you’ll be fine. You learned from yours truly, the best there ever was and ever will be.” She points to herself with her left thumb. ”Besides, he’s at your level. I guarantee you won’t die.”

  She moves a hand to ruffle my hair, “Look, if I am wrong and you’re in any real danger. I’ll bail you out.”

  Without warning, she leaps up onto the roof of a nearby building. A tendril shot out of the left armhole of her cloak, grabbing me and dragging me up onto the roof.

  I let out a strained yelp before the tendril lets go of me, and I tumble onto the roof of the building where Miss Claire is. My body rolls across the concrete as I make a few full rolls onto it before stopping.

  Slowly standing up, I march over to Miss Claire and sharply point a finger up at her. “That scared me. Why didn’t you warn me before you did that?!” I shout, feeling my breathing get heavier as I recover from the shock.

  Miss Claire looks away from me, looking very sheepish. “Sorry, kiddo, but if you look down there. You’d see my reason.” She says as she points to the street below.

  My gaze moves in the direction she points. I see a rugged man wearing goofy red spandex. He has a wolf mask attached to the belt he has on his waist. His hair is a light brown, and he has an unkempt mullet, and these wild sideburns that almost remind me of a famous Rock & Roll artist.

  The man smirks as he has a person pinned below him that I can’t quite see. He moves his hand in a claw-like motion in front of the person’s head.

  I hear a blood-curdling scream coming from whoever he has pinned below him. The man laughs and does it again, the scream getting louder. The man’s hand movements grow faster and faster until there’s nothing but…

  Silence.

  The eerie silence is in contrast to the pained screams from earlier. The man stands up, revealing to me something that resembles a person. The head and upper torso are mangled. Sliced and diced all over, the fleshy mess slowly oozed out onto the concrete below.

  I feel myself gagging. I turn my head to cleanse my eyes of the sight. I feel the nausea come into my head, as my heart races. Trying not to puke, I crouch down in a vain attempt to control the feeling.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  My hand reaches up, and I swiftly take off my mask, feeling something rise, and my head leans forward. The contents of my stomach are emptying onto the roof on which I stand.

  Miss Claire rushes to my side and matter-of-factly states, “That’s Mad Hound. He throws his weight around on petty non-powered criminals who commit misdemeanors.” Miss Claire comfortingly rubs my back and helps me clean up my face. She puts my mask back on for me.

  “Why?…” The words fall out of my mouth. “How could someone just take a life like that?” I ask in vain, I know firsthand how cruel these monsters can be. This is just a nightmarish reminder.

  “I’ve told you before, Chameleon. Those who have power always exercise it on others to make themselves feel superior. Those unstable pricks are the ones in power now.” Miss Claire gently pats my head as she answers my question. “I understand it’s been a while since you faced that reality. Are you reminded why I do what I do now?”

  I nod, stabilizing myself. “I understand. I guess I forgot after two years of comfort in the lair. Training with you.”

  Miss Claire softly speaks to me, “Good. Now you’re gonna handle him. Are you up to it still, kiddo?”

  My hands go up to adjust my mask as I answer her:

  “I promise, I’ll do it.”

  Miss Claire grabs my hand, dragging me alongside her in the direction that Mad Hound left. We hop from rooftop to rooftop until Mad Hound walks into an empty parking garage. Thinking nothing of it. I jump off the roof and use two shadow tendrils to launch myself onto the floor above where Mad Hound entered.

  Miss Claire shouts, “Kid, wait!” I turn my head to see the obvious panic in her body language, waving her arms around.

  Before I can respond to her, I hear a gruff voice speak behind me, “Thought I smelled a rat following me, it was you, eh?” I turn my head to see Mad Hound before me.

  I freeze, unable to move or react. Mad Hound continues to question me, “So who are you? Some no-named villain coming to take out the great B Tier Hero Mad Hound?”

  I immediately ground myself and retorted, “No, I came to clean up D-tier trash who masquerades as a B-tier hero.”

  Mad Hound lets out a patronizing laugh, “You sound like a kid! So brat, what’s your scary villain name?” Mad Hound crosses his arms and smirks at me.

  “Chameleon.” I sigh.

  I was unsure whether it was something I gained through my training or if it was instinct. But I could almost feel the danger. I jump up, narrowly avoiding an ‘Air Slicer’ attack. It was inches from grazing me.

  Mad Hound’s eyes widened in amusement. “You have good instincts, brat.” He swipes his hands. I quickly hid behind a nearby car, narrowly avoiding his attack again. The product of his violent assault keeps beating on the car. Causing it to shake violently behind me as if it is going to fall over and crush me.

  My breath quickens, my thoughts racing:

  How am I supposed to win?

  I slap my face to refocus myself. I shouldn’t be focusing on how I’m “supposed” to win. I need to focus on how I'm going to counterattack.

  “What happened, 'Chameleon'? Wasn’t I just D-tier trash?” Mad Hound mocks. As another air slicer hits the car I'm hiding behind. Shaking it violently yet again.

  I use the shadows cast under the car to use two shadow tendrils to launch the car toward Mad Hound.

  It seems to me that Mad Hound wasn’t able to react much. Because all he did was put his arms up to block it. He effortlessly pushes the car off of him, however, he looks pretty bruised. It seems like it actually hurt him.

  “You little prick! I’ll-“ His sentence ends prematurely as I interrupt it with a punch to the jaw. His guard raises to his head as I follow up my punch with a front kick to his stomach.

  He grabs my leg and throws me against the car I launched at him. He rushes in. Trying to hit me with an Air Slicer directly to the face up close. I try to duck under, but it’s too late.

  My mask now has cut marks on it as my neck is cut slightly. I feel drops of blood drip out. But it doesn’t seem to me like it is anything life-threatening. I use the shadows on the roof to send two shadow tendrils drilling out at him. He swipes his hand up and dices up the tendrils.

  I take that opportunity to get closer and swipe my hand up at him in a claw-like form. “Air Slicer!” I mock, shouting the name of the attack like one of those TV shows. It’s a direct hit to his abdomen, his red spandex cut as blood starts slowly spilling out.

  “You brat! How did you do that?” Mad Hound shouts, demanding an answer. “I’m called Chameleon for a reason. I copied you after all.” I replied. I can’t help but no longer take him seriously in this state.

  “I don’t think that matters anymore. I will kill you!” Mad Hound yells as he prepares another attack before someone grabs his arm.

  I look over and see Miss Claire. “Aww, getting beat by a kid, Mad Hound?” She patronizes while Mad Hound's eyes widen. “Wraith? Why the hell are you here? I thought you disappeared after the incident?…” Mad Hound barely stuttered out in disbelief.

  “Is it so hard to understand that I’ve returned you, dense mutt?” Miss Claire laughs. “Oh, by the way. The little Chameleon right there, he’s my sidekick.”

  Mad Hound’s jaw drops. Struggling to put it all together in his head. Miss Claire doesn’t wait for him to respond before following her statement up with, “But I don’t exactly want the world to know about him yet. You catch my drift?”

  Mad Hound nods at her meekly, quickly responding: “Yes! I won’t say anything! I promise!”

  Miss Claire gently giggles, “Oh, silly mutt. You thought I was letting you go?” She turns her attention to me. “Please leave, kiddo. I gotta do something real quick.”

  My head shakes violently, yes. As I’d rather not question her, or find out what she meant by “something”

  I turn and leave, walking down the ramp, as I do, I hear chilling screams coming from Mad Hound. My walk grows brisker as I leave, not wanting to hear the sounds of my mentor’s brutality.

  I wait about three blocks away from the parking garage. Mulling over how the fight went. Thinking of ways I could have approached it better. My inner thoughts are interrupted by a familiar sing-songy voice, “Chameleon! I’m done!” Miss Claire approaches me. Her cloak now had a patch of blood on it.

  We began our walk back to the lair. Miss Claire excitedly pipes up about five minutes into our walk, “It’s almost time for lunch! I’ll make us your favorite chicken and dumplings!” She is practically beaming. Her attitude, being as infectious as it is, brings a smile to my face as well.

  “I’m looking forward to it. My first mission made me hungry.” I respond while my stomach rumbles.

  Soon we arrive at the warehouse and take the elevator down. Miss Claire runs to the kitchen as I go and sit on the couch. Mindlessly watching a game show on television.

  The sounds of the poor victim of Mad Hound and the sight of their body. As well as the screams of Mad Hound himself keep playing on repeat in my brain.

  My mind cannot help but wonder. I contemplate whether the rest of the missions will be like this. The thought plagued my mind. Can I really do this?