[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/iyJuAe0.png
[/img][/center]
[center][b]Aubrey Adkins[/b][/center]
	I paced outside the entrance to the the 5th Street Promenade. Emily and I had originally made plans to stroll around the 5th Street Promenade, partially to just hang out and partially to get my mind off the Hounds (although she was unaware of this motive). However, after waiting for fifteen minutes, I had not seen nor heard from her. It was not like her to stand me up like this. Some of the other Viera girls, maybe, but not Emily. What could be holding her up?

	I then felt my phone buzz in my hand. She finally sent a text, alerting me that she was running a little late. She suggested that I could start walking around without her, since she would just catch up to me once she arrives. However, she never did mention [b]why[/b] she was running late. Nevertheless, I did not press the issue. I guessed it was none of my business, anyways.

	My first stop was a store called [i]Yellowjacket[/i]. It sold all sorts of posh clothing, although their inventory was mostly targeting a female demographic. I normally don’t shop there, even since I became employed by [i]Viera[/i], but it never hurts to window shop from time to time. Once I passed through[i]Yellowjacket’s[/i] entrance, I began to amble around the store.

	Eventually, I stumbled upon a cute dress that I just loved. A year ago, this dress would have fit me like a glove. But, alas, no so much now. Now, I have to spend hours rummaging through tons of clothes to just find something that would fit my figure. I normally run into one of two problems. If I try something that fits my bust, the rest of the dress or shirt would be draped in front of me, creating this awkward empty space between the fabric and the rest of my body, which would make me look thicker than I actually am. But if I try for the opposite, to get something that fits my slim figure, I either get a seam running across my bust or my bust would look like it would pop out at any moment. Thank God that Athena had already altered my entire wardrobe so that it would fit me properly, after that magical trafficker had irreversibly altered my body several months ago. That’s the perk of having the goddess of weaving as your friend. Well, I don’t know if I could call our relationship as ‘friendship.’ More like a ‘positive working partnership,’ or something.

	But the dress was just way too cute. So, I pulled off the rack a dress of the same style, along with two other ones that also caught my eye. Then I headed towards the back of the story where the changing rooms were located. Once inside, I hung the three dresses up and pulled the first off its hanger. After I had stripped off my shirt and pulled the first dress over my head, I took a look in the mirror. With a little of Athena’s sewing magic, this one would look pretty nice on me.

	As I removed the first dress and turned to the second, I heard someone entering the dressing room stall next to me. When I heard sobbing, I got a little nosey and started to eavesdrop. When I heard a pair of boots entering the stall with the woman and a gun cocking back, I started to get concerned. Could the Hounds be here? How could that be? Slipstream and I exterminated those cockroaches.

	How should I approach this? I could easily change into my costume right in this changing room and intervene. However, I don’t think I could easily change back into my civilian identity. Although it is probably above the store’s employees’ pay roll to keep track of when customers come and go, it is better safe than sorry. Leaving the store and reentering would be the best option without compromising my identity.

	While I was placing the first dress back on its proper hanger and pulling my shirt back on, someone threw open the door to the dressing room stall I was occupying. A woman stood in my only way out. While she was not wearing the usual black tactical gear that the Hounds are accustomed to wear, she held a pistol in one hand and a portal device in her other. I bet she was wearing this civilian disguise to prevent everyone else from panicking and ruining whatever the endgame that the Hounds had in mind for Pacific Point.

	“Jackpot,” the woman declared, “I found another one.”

	[color=b22222]“Hey! Just because we’re both women don’t mean you can just barge right in!”[/color] I replied while trying to keep my cool. The question that was running through my head was how did she know I was a superhuman. Was it that device she was holding in her hand?

	“Don’t worry, you witch. You will have a part in helping the Hounds remind the world that they are sheep surrounded by wolves in sheep skin. The Hounds will be like the shepherd dog, chasing the metas out for the good of the flock.” She holstered her gun and pulled out a second device from her pocket, circular in shape and no bigger than the palm of her hand.

	[color=b22222]“Witch? You must be mistaken!”[/color] It is definitely a relief that she has not figured out my real metahuman powers. But why would she think I’m a witch?

	“You have trace amounts of magical energy in your body. This device doesn’t lie.” The woman responded.

	[color=b22222]“Wait! I think I can explain this,”[/color] I answered back. Oh God, I think I know what this residual magic could be. [color=b22222] “A few months ago, a witch used her magic to alter my body. I think that’s what your little scanner is picking up.”[/color]

	“Unfortunately, you are still stained by the witch’s touch. Humanity will thank you for your sacrifice.” The woman then approached me with her hand stretched out with the circular device aimed at me.

	[color=b22222]“Wait! Can’t we talk this out?”[/color] However, she was definitely in no mood for rational thinking. Struggle ensued, as she tried to attach the device to my skin. I did my best to keep her away from me. I have no idea what that device would do, but it could not be anything good.

	[color=b22222]“I said stop!”[/color] I shouted at her before I threw a punch at her face. It dazed her for a second, but she quickly recovered. She dropped the power scanner on the floor and drew her Glock and aimed it at me.

	“You’re going to regret that, witch.” The woman threatened. However, before she could pull the trigger, someone grabbed the woman and slammed her against the wall, which temporarily knocked her out. Behind the Hound’s grunt, there stood a brunette woman wearing a costume inspired by 40’s and 50’s Americana ([i]writer’s note[/i]: something like [url=https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0240/4219/files/GalleryMain-WWArt.jpg?1601]this[/url], but obviously not Wonder Woman). Instead of a domino mask, only a pair of large sunglasses covered her eyes.

	“Don’t worry, citizen. You should be safe now.” The costumed woman told me.

	[color=b22222]“Emily? What are you doing wearing that getup?”[/color] I asked my friend, seeing through costume inspired by the 40’s and 50’s. Has she been a metahuman this whole time and I did not recognize it? It makes sense she would not tell me, but how could I not see this coming?

	“What?” Emily tried to deflect my response, “The name’s Pinup. I don’t know anyone named Emily.”

	Before we could continue this conversation, we heard a voice coming from a radio that the woman had also dropped when Emily (or Pinup as she preferred to be called). Whoever was on the other line was asking for a progress report on whatever that woman had been doing. The woman then quickly snatched up the radio, since we were momentarily distracted with Emily’s secret identity.

	“Cry havoc and unleash the hounds of war,” the woman responded back to the Hound commander on the other side of the radio. Then I could feel the air inside of the building grow frigid. The air became more difficult to breath in, as if it were solidifying. How were the Hounds causing the air within the store to freeze?

	Suddenly, I felt someone yank me backwards. I knew it was not Emily since she was standing right next to me. One moment I was inside, the next Emily and I sitting outside the store, unscathed. Furthermore, somehow my powers had been activated and my costume was on me instead of my regular clothes. When I looked up to see who had saved us, I discovered Athena standing before us.

	“You are welcome,” Athena told me without looking me in the face. Instead she was gazing at the Yellowjacket building, which had been entirely encased with ice. “And before you ask, yes. I got all the civilians out, too.”

	[color=b22222]“I’ve noticed that you haven’t been around as often as you used to. What’s up with that?”[/color]

	“I’ve had some important business to take care of.”

	[color=b22222]“Anything that will involve me?”[/color]

	“There is a high probability.”

	[color=b22222]“And are you going to tell me what it’s about?”[/color]

	“When the time comes, yes. But for now, let’s focus our attention to the task at hand.”

	[color=b22222]“Great,”[/color] I sighed.

	“That was great thinking on your part,” Emily, still dressed as Pinup, congratulated me. She had obviously not heard the conversation between Athena and me. She probably can see her. “I don’t know how you did it, Aubrey, but—”

	When she saw my costumed drider appearance, Emily’s sentence was cut short by her own shock and bewilderment. It took her a moment before everything registered in her head.

	“When did you become a spider person?” Emily asked. “And how did you make your bust smaller?”

	[color=b22222]“I think we have some more pressing questions at hand, like what the hell is that!”[/color] I exclaimed as something broke out of the ice that had engulfed the store. An individual, almost seven feet tall, with an almost crystalline body, tore its way through the ice until it had breached its icy prison. When I realized that the ‘creature’ was wearing the tattered clothes and the circular device that the woman had tried to attach to me a few moments ago, I dreaded what might be the reality: was this the person sobbing inside before the Hound attacked?

	Then, a tiny owl fluttered towards Athena. When it had landed on her shoulder, it began to constantly hoot at her in an agitated fashion, as if it were trying to say something.

	“I see, Bubo. There is at least a half a dozen of these rage-induced metahumans within the immediately vicinity and many more around the city, correct?”

	The owl then nodded its head. I was going to say something about her talking to the owl, but I already knew she would say something about her being the patron goddess of owls and being able to speak every dialect of owlish or whatever bull she would give me as an answer. It would definitely save me the headache.

	[color=b22222]“I can tell that this evening is already going to suck.”[/color]