The two shuffled themselves back to the mall with the heavy deck, their arms straining uhe weight as they trudged forward. The mall, though weathered by time, still held a charm that made it beloved by locals. Its grand fountains had been verted into pnters filled with vibrant greenery, a low-mainteempt at preserving some of its old elegance. Despite its pricey shops and faded grandeur, it remained a hub of activity, a lingering echo of a golden age long past.

  Leo out a heavy sigh of relief as they ehe air-ditioned mall, her muscles ag from carrying their cumbersome load. She practically dropped the deto the first avaible table, leaning over it as a little sweat trickled dowemple. “Finally,” she huffed, wiping her brow.

  Quinn leaned against the table, her breath ing out in short bursts. “I’m sorry, Leona. I went a bit too far, I guess.” She shook her head, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. “I mean, that driver was such a dickhead… I couldn’t let him win… but we had no choi the end.” She ughed and ran her fihrough her mop of sink hair, messier and more chaotic than ever, her gaze drifting across the mall with a nostalgic glint.

  “Remember this pce before I got into raving? I used to hang out here all the time,” she tihe hint of a wistful smile crossing her face. “I’m sure gd I got to you before you turned into a mall rat.”

  Leona raised an eyebrow, her expression curious. “A mall rat, huh? Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

  Quinn grinned mischievously. “Oh, you bet. I practically lived here back then. Spent my days l, hanging around the food court, trying to look cool. It wasn’t until I followed some older kids to my first rave that everything ged. The music, the energy… it moved my soul. That’s when I realized what I wao do with my life.” She g Leona and added, “But yeah, I know this pce so well, it’s almost criminal. Like, literally—good thing I don’t have a rind. I could show you where all the cameras are and all the ahey don’t see.”

  “Before you ask,” Quinn added with a waggle of her eyebrows, “yes, I’ve gotten a few five-fingered dists here. Not that often, though. Just enough to keep life iing.”

  Leona rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You shouldn’t be so naughty, big sis. I don’t want to see you ending up as the big supervilin.”

  Qui out a hearty ugh, her grin widening. “Yeah, that’d be one hell of a family dynamic. A beatnik, a superviliness, and a superhero nerd. Perfectly dysfunal, right?” She tilted her head thoughtfully, then brightened. “Hey, tell you what—how about I bribe you with an ice cream e? sider it my apology fing you into that bus fiasco.”

  Without waiting for a response, Quinn darted off, leaving Leona standing there, mouth half-open. Leona sighed, shaking her head with an amused smile - what had happeo not abandoning her baby for anything? She settled into her seat and stretched her arms over her head, letting the sunlight streaming through the skylight bathe her. The warmth seeped into her, filling her with an odd sense of energy that made her pause. She ran her fihrough her hair absentmindedly, noting how dry it felt despite the heat. Quinn ositively damp with sweat after their exertions. Was something going on with her?

  Quiurned moments ter, tapping Leona’s shoulder to get her attention. “Gotcha a triple Neapolitan e,” she said, holding it out. Leona gratefully took it, her eyes lighting up as she licked the cool, creamy treat.

  “You okay?” Quinn asked, her voice tinged with . “You looked a little off there. Mad at me or something?”

  Leona shook her head, her smile returning as the ice cream worked its magiah, it’s just cssic Quinn at it again. I’m used to it.” She giggled, feeling her earlier frustration dissipate.

  “Didn’t know you were so reliable,” Quinn teased, then suddenly brightened. “Oh! Look! A cute girl!” She poioward a young woman striding fidently through the mall just outside the food court.

  Leona followed her gaze, her cheeks flushing as she took in the sight. The girl wore a sleek gsam dress that hugged her figure perfectly, the fabric rippling with her every step. Leona’s eyes lingered for a moment lohaended, her mind wandering to how she’d look in something so bold.

  “Dat butt!” Quinn quipped, winking at Leona. Leona’s face turned red, and she quickly looked away, though she couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at her lips.

  As they both fell into a fortable silehe sun filtering through the skylight ed around Leona in a gentle warmth. It felt like something inside her was stirring, bubbling just beh the surface. She csped a hand to her chest, her breathing shallow as the sensatioronger. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on it, her ice cream temporarily fotten. It was like reag out for something just beyond her grasp, something ready to—

  Her phone buzzed, shattering the moment. She blinked, fumbling to pull it from her pocket. The s lit up with Goonie’s name.

  “I’m here,” Goonie said when Leona answered. “You two at the food court? e on out when you’re ready, but remember, I gotta get back tout suite.”

  Leona hough Goonie couldn’t see her, and hung up. She turo Quinn. “Mom’s here.”

  The two younger family members lugged the deck to the office Quinn had proudly verted into her personal live-in studio. The space was a chaotic testament to her personality—walls pstered with posters of bands and DJ gigs, cords and equipment sprawled like tangled vines across the room. Amid the gear stood a hideaway bed, an ued nod to practicality that Goonie had insisted upon when Quinn had initially cimed a couch would suffice.

  Goonie hovered at the doorway, briefly to help haul the heavy deck, but when she saw the siblings managing fine, she backed off with a satisfied nod. Ohe deck was settled into its new home, she sighed, brushing her hands together, and smiled warmly at them both. Her gaze lingered on Leona.

  “I’ve gotta get back to the café now,” Goonie said, her voice firm but kind. “Please keep your sister out of trouble.”

  Leona ughed softly, brushing her hands on her shorts. “Yeah, I’ll try.” She gave a sidelong g Quinn, already absorbed in iing the deck’s knobs and switches, her focus interouble seemed unlikely—at least, the immediate kind.

  Not long after Goonie had left Leona decided to slip away, the lure of the sun-soaked deck outside too entig to resist. She found a chair in the golden light and sank into it, letting her eyes drift closed. A dreamy smile pyed on her lips as she basked in the warmth. Her mind wandered back to the dream she’d had the previous night—a strange, vivid enter she’d dismissed as fantasy. Yet now, as the warmth seemed to build within her, she wondered.

  Her fingers stretched outward, almost involuntarily, reag for that elusive sensation she’d felt in the dream. The warmth surged, growing until it became impossible to tain. A blinding fsh of light burst from her, and suddenly, her clothes stricted unfortably around her body, the noise of fabric tearing filling her ears.

  Leona yelped, standing abruptly and knog over the chair in the process. Her chest heaved, straining against her shirt, which looked like it might rip in half at any sed. She gnced down at herself, wide-eyed, and gasped.

  “Oh wow… it wasn’t a dream!” she whispered, her voice a mix of aanic. She turned in a quick circle, her eyes darting around the empty backyard, relief flooding her when she saw no one nearby.

  Her wings—wings!—flexed instinctively, the movement shredding her poor shirt into tatters. She yelped again, her cheeks burning as she gnced down at her badly fitting bra, barely taining her overflowing breasts. At least it offered a sembnodesty, though she felt exposed heless. The remains of her shirt g stubbornly to her arms like ribbons, but Leona couldn’t help but grin.

  Despite the awkwardness, excitement bubbled up inside her. She could be a superhero—a real ohe angel from her dream had been right!

  Accept me. I will grant you the power of an Empyrean. It will awaken what already exists within you and give you what you want and need. Your heart, fed in pain and loss, is also the heart of a hero. It will steel you against her temptations, against everything she has tried to make you bee. The heroic feats you will achieve will redeem the evil I have been a part of, and in doing so, your world will gain a true champion of justi Empyrean who is unyielding, unbroken, and free.

  … You will fully gain our essence. You will have our power. But it will be your power. You shall be whomever you wish to be.

  Leona darted toward the house, her wings brushing the door frame as she slipped inside. She froze for a moment, listening ily for any signs of Quinn havi her room. Hearing only muffled beats and the faint hum of Quinn’s musiing from her room, Leona tiptoed upstairs and closed her bedroom door firmly behind her.

  The first thing she did was tear off the remnants of her too-tight clothes, although with some effort, she was able to tug off her jeans without adding new holes, tossing them into a er. She stood before her mirror, examining her refle in awe. She ran her hands over her smooth, clear skin, slightly tanned, faintly remi of Bgel’s good side’s glorious golden tan, marveling at the curves that hadn’t been there before. She looked older een, maybe even a little older—and her silver hair shimmered like moonlight.

  Tentatively, she touched herself, her cheeks reddening as she firmed for the sed time si night that her body was fully, uionably feminine. A squeal of joy escaped her, and she spun around in giddy circles, her wings catg on a shelf and knog its tents to the floor with a crash. Apparently shelves and their tents were her natural enemies.

  “Oops!” she hissed, freezing in pd gng toward the door. When no one came, she sighed in relief.

  She gred at her wings in frustration, and to her surprise, they shriveled, shrinking into tiny cherubic appendages as though reag to her thoughts aions. “Oh!” Leona gasped. “That’s… way better!” She giggled, twirling to admire the smaller, more manageable wings in the mirror. Even in their miniature form, they glowed faintly, casting a soft light over her refle.

  The sunlight streaming through her window called tain, and Leona stepped closer, letting its warmth wash over her. She felt the energy within her surge, begging for release. She raised her hand and poi a random target on impulse—a gss globe taining the ashes left behind by the angel’s down from the previous night.

  “Pe!” she said jokingly. A beam of light erupted from her palm, striking the globe and shattering it instantly. The fouged a trento the wooden shelf beh it, and several ics fell victim to the bst, reduced to shreds.

  Leona cpped a hand over her mouth, horrified. “No! Not my ics!” She rushed to the wreckage, tears stinging her eyes as she cradled the remnants of several of her most favorite issues.

  Her sadness was short-lived, quickly repced by a thrill of realization. I fly! Or I should be able to fly! Bgel could! There’s no reason to think that these wings are just decorations. The thought sent a jolt of excitement through her, and she turo her wings, which fluttered eagerly in response and grew to full size once more.

  But then ahought struck her, ohat defted her excitement like a pin to a balloon: I need clothes and nothing will fit, especially with these wings poking out from my shoulder bdes.

  Leona groaned, running her fihrough her lustrous silver hair. She couldn’t very well go streaking across the city, even if no one would reize her like this, even if it would make her look more angelic. She’d also bee an object of criticism. It wouldn’t do to start her superhero career with a sdal hanging over her head. They’d call her the fluffy-wireaking angel. Not much better than Bgel. She balled her fists, screaming internally. What was she going to do? Damn it! I need some kind of clothes!

  Energy abruptly swirled around Leona’s body as she pondered her need for clothes, densing and weaving into a perfect recreation of Mistral’s iie. She was thinking about her favorite superheroine, idly trying to e up with a cept for a heroie. Surprised at the feel of fabric ging to her body, feeling real, she gasped in delight, twirling in front of the mirror. It was a faithful tribute to her hero, feathers shimmering with ahereal glow and the sleek bodice fitting her newfound form like a dream. This e could give her Mistral rival at Justi a run for her money.

  But as much as she adored Mistral’s e, the thought of masquerading as her uled her. She didn’t want to dishonor her idol or risk tarnishing her name, especially not on her very first day of heroics. She khat she might not do as well as she hoped. Resolving to create something unique, Leona closed her eyes and trated.

  Piece by piece, her imagination crafted a new outfit inspired by tless catalogs, superhero es, and even anime she’d devoured over the years. She thought about angels, what they were supposed to look like in cssic Christian stories and portraits. With a cept in mind, her body glowed agaiemporary homage transf into a creation all her own.

  When the light faded, Leona gasped in wonder. She now wore a radiant white toga gown remi of a gsam but lighter and strappier over one shoulder, adorned with gold and blue detailing. It ristinely white and silky to the touch, caressing her skin. Blue crystals adorhe golden bands and straps arouhighs, ankles, neck, feet and arms. A golden neckce with a blue crystal set in it plemented her elegant look, and her hair hung free, reag her pert backside, ed with a delicate greek-like tiara with gold leaf brang up delicately upward oher side, set with blue crystals. Blue-and-gold cuffs graced her wrists, and sandals adorned her feet, their simplicity trasting the soft brilliance of her e’s toga-like dress. The dress hung down behind her, a bit like a butt cape. Although she felt a little under-dressed, she liked her appearanuch, she decided that it needed no revising.

  The fabric truly felt otherworldly—weightless and breathable, as though it were made of sunlight itself. Yet it was tangible, holding its form perfectly. As far as Leona could tell, it didn’t require any tration to maintain. It was as though she was defining the basic particurs of her form for ste. She touched it repeatedly to firm it was real, marveling at its peculiar properties.

  For o finishing touch she grabbed her phone - no hero should be without one - and jured a clever hidden pocket in her dress to tuck it safely away, behind the golde resting on her hips over her dress. Now fully decked out, Leona couldn’t wait any longer. She flung open her window, ung herself through, unworried as her wings unfurled iement, and she unched herself into the sky.

  “Woooooohooooo!” she whooped, spinning as she asded. The city of San Isidro stretched out beh her, a breathtaking mosaic of Victorian-style towers and bustling streets.

  As she soared higher, the sun kissed her skin, energizing her further. “I’m flying!” she squealed, her voice brimming with joy. She experimented with loops and dives, clumsily at first but quickly finding her rhythm. Pure instinct seemed to guide her, turning her initial awkwardness into graceful movements.

  Leona dahrough the thermals, letting the wind py over her body, before swooping down toward the bay. She skimmed the water’s surface, ughing as her fingers brushed the waves. “This is AMAZING!” she cried, her voice eg across the o.

  But her euphot the better of her. Distracted by her freedom, she misjudged her flight path and collided with the bow of a ship. She came to a screeg halt just in time to avoid serious damage, but her impact left a dent—the imprint of her face—imprinted on the side of the hull.

  Crewmembers rushed to the deck, staring at her in stunned silence. Leona’s cheeks burned as she scrambled to apologize. “Uh… sorry!” she stammered, giving them an awkward wave before kig off the ship and s bato the sky.

  Embarrassed but uerred, she decided to make up for her blunder by patrolling the city. Dartiween buildings, she honed her reflexes, zipping through narrow spaces and weaviween eys and buildings built so close that she barely had room to squeak between them.

  Her vigince paid off. H above a tall skyscraper well known to most San Isidrans, the Meyers Biochem Building, she spotted a blimp moored to the rooftop, surrounded by masked men wielding guns. Her heart pounded with anticipation as she studied them.

  “This is it,” she whispered, a grin spreading across her face.

  She nded on a nearby building, the situation. The men were clearly up to no good, but they hadn’t noticed her yet. Her wings fluttered with excitement as she decided to make arance—a bright one.

  Gathering her energy, she began to glow, light p from her body like liquid fire. It was reckless—she barely uood her powers—but she didn’t care. She knew in her soul that she o step forward and be measured.

  Leona crouched, her wiending dramatically. “Time to shine,” she murmured, her voice filled with determination. Then, with a burst of light, she unched herself toward the rooftop, ready to face her first real challenge.