[INDENT][COLOR=SLATEGRAY][CENTER][sup][sup][h1][center][img] https://media.architecturaldigest.com/photos/672d4a5b823a46b3d7f713e1/16:9/w_2560%2Cc_limit/GettyImages-1867432941.jpg[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] S T . D Y M P H N A ‘ S H O M E[/color] [color=lightgray]S T . D Y M P H N A ‘ S H O M E[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup][/sup] [sup][sup][h1][b][center][color=black] F O R W A Y W A R D Y O U T H S[/color] [color=lightgray]F O R W A Y W A R D Y O U T H S[/color][/center] [/b][/h1][/sup][/sup] [color=silver][sup][i]Joanie[/i][/sup][/color][/CENTER][/color][/INDENT] “Who the hell are you guys?” Mina demanded, her voice sharp The street seemed to empty around them as the four figures straightened from their lean against the van. The morning bustle of the Docks faded into the background, replaced by a heavy, watchful silence. Joanie felt Mina begin to stiffen beside her as she spoke, the excitement from moments ago draining from her face as she took in the strangers blocking their path. Joanie recognised the first two instantly. Detonator Dane stood at the front, leaning against the van lik#e he owned the street. He had the kind of sharp‑boned, effortless beauty that made people stare without meaning to. Dark hair tied back at the nape, stubble along a strong jaw, eyes bright with a restless excitement that never seemed to settle. His sports jacket hung open over a bare chest, the fabric scorched in places. He continued to roll the metal ball between his fingers. Beside him stood Cinderjack, broader and heavier, dressed like he had been dragged out bed only ten minutes ago, his blonde mullet an absolute mess. A fitted black T‑shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, hiding the mess of old burns and inked tattoos. The fresh black eye swelling beneath his brow was new. Joanie noticed it instantly. He hadn’t had it at Harborlight. He avoided her gaze, jaw tight. Was it guilt? Shame? Something worse? The other two were strangers. One perched on the bonnet of the van, legs swinging casually despite the weight of the hammer resting across her lap. She was small, barely five feet tall, with a compact athletic build that made her movements sharp and fast. Her hair was shaved on one side, the rest dyed a violent red that fell across her cheek. Her grin was wide and mischievous, the kind of smile that belonged to someone who enjoyed chaos far more than she should. The hammer looked almost comically oversized in her hands, but she held it with the ease of someone who had been swinging it since childhood. Behind her stood a giant of a man. A large Black man, broad‑shouldered and heavyset, with the kind of presence that made the space around him feel smaller. His skin was smooth and dark, his features strong and calm, but his forearms told a different story. They shifted subtly, the surface rippling like wet clay being stirred by an unseen hand. Cracks formed and sealed across his arms whenever he flexed, shedding tiny flecks of dried mud that crumbled to the pavement. The rest of him looked normal, grounded, human. Only his arms betrayed the mutation simmering beneath his skin. Dane pushed off the van and sauntered forward. “Relax. We’re not here for a fight.” He pointed at Joanie. “We’re here for her.” Joanie’s stomach dropped. Mina stepped closer. “Why would you want her?” “The Icelander wants a word.” Trey frowned and raised an eyebrow. “Who?” Joanie swallowed. [color=plum]“Caleb’s boss.”[/color] She replied quietly. Trey and Mina turned to look at her in unison, confusion crossing their faces. Dane grinned. “He’s your boss too now.” Joanie’s throat tightened. Her eyes flicked to Cinderjack again. He still wouldn’t look at her. She had saved his life. Surely that meant something? Apparently it didn’t, as he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Why?” Trey asked. “Because he saw what she did the other night. Shook his whole club,” Dane said. “You think he didn’t notice?” Joanie’s breath caught. [color=plum]“I didn’t mean to.”[/color] “Doesn’t matter. He wants you. And when he wants something, we fetch it.” Trey stepped in front of her. “You’re not taking her.” Dane merely smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He turned his head slightly. “Pummel. Mudline. Get her.” The hammer girl hopped off the bonnet, cracking her knuckles. The world exploded. She sprinted first, swinging the oversized hammer in a blur. Trey threw up a bubble so fast it shimmered like glass. The hammer slammed into it with a deep, ringing thud that vibrated through Joanie’s bones. Trey staggered but held. “Back off!” He shouted. Dane flicked something from his fingers. A tiny bead, no bigger than a marble, glowing a faint red. It arced lazily through the air, then detonated with a sharp crack that rattled the windows. Trey threw another bubble, catching the blast before it hit them. “Cute trick,” Dane called. “Let’s see how long you last.” The giant moved next. He charged, his arms softening into heavy mudlike masses that wrapped around Joanie and Mina’s wrists, pinning them together. The weight dragged Joanie down. Her knees hit the pavement. Panic flared. “Let go of her!” Mina shouted, struggling. Joanie felt the familiar pressure rising in her chest. She exhaled. The ground trembled. A sharp pulse burst from her body. The mudlike grip shattered into clumps that scattered across the street. The giant stumbled back, staring at his cracked hands. Joanie fell forward, breath shaking. Mina grabbed her arm. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” The hammer girl was already back on them. She swung again, forcing Joanie and Mina to duck. Joanie felt the rush of air over her head. Mina kicked out, catching the girl’s shin. She hissed and swung again, closer this time. Another pulse burst from Joanie’s hands. Smaller, focused. It caught the girl square in the torso and sent her flying back, skidding across the pavement. “Agnes!” the one known as Mudline shouted. So that was her real name. He surged forward, his arm liquefying into a muddy fist that shot toward Joanie. She barely dodged, stumbling sideways as the limb splattered against the pavement and reformed. A chunk of brick behind her cracked from the impact. Mina grabbed Joanie’s sleeve. “Stay with me!” Before she could reassure her, a rush of heat tore across Joanie’s right side. Cinderjack lunged, flames racing up his arms. His fist was a ball of fire, aimed straight at her head. Joanie ducked, feeling the heat scorch past her cheek. The last time she had seen those flames had been on the Harborlight stage, aimed at opponents. Seeing them aimed at her now was terrifying. [color=plum]“Why are you doing this?”[/color] she shouted. [color=plum]“I saved your life!”[/color] He hesitated for a moment, as if his guilt was flickering. He still wouldn’t meet her gaze. “You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t yours to save.” He finally said. His voice was angry, although she could hear the fear in it. [color=plum]“What the fuck does that mean?”[/color] “The Icelander decides who lives. Not you. Now I have to prove myself.” He lunged again. Joanie ducked. Mina shoved him. He stumbled but caught himself, flames flaring hotter, eyes locked on Joanie like she was the test he had to pass. Behind them, Agnes was back on her feet. She swung the hammer at Mina’s head. Mina stepped in close, grabbed the handle with both hands, and held on. Joanie was as the veins in her hands glowed white hot. The metal began to soften, the handle sagging. Agnes screamed as the heat melted part of her palm and the skin along her fingers. “Let go!” she shouted, dropping the hammer. Then she drove her forehead into Mina’s face. The crack was sickening. Mina screamed and fell, blood pouring from her nose. [color=plum]“Mina!”[/color] Joanie lunged toward her. Cinderjack reached Joanie first. His hand closed around her arm. Heat seared through her sleeve. She cried out and swung blindly. Her fist connected with his jaw. It barely moved him. “You should’ve stayed down,” he growled. Mudline grabbed Joanie from behind, arms wrapping around her torso, crushing her ribs. She gasped, panic clawing up her throat. She tried to twist free, but his grip only tightened, the mud along his forearms hardening like stone. [color=plum]“Let go!”[/color] She begged between breaths. He didn’t. Joanie’s breath hitched. Her vision blurred. She looked toward Trey. He was still holding the line, but barely. Bubble after bubble flickered around him, each one thinner than the last. Dane kept throwing explosives, each bead glowing hotter, brighter, more unstable. Trey’s jaw was clenched. Sweat ran down his temple. His hands trembled. He was shaking under the strain. He wasn’t going to last. Joanie felt something inside her crack as her hope slipped away. The pressure rose in her chest, too fast, too strong, like her whole body was about to tear open. She couldn’t hold it. She couldn’t stop it. She released it. The shockwave tore out of her in a single violent burst. The entire street shook. Mudline’s grip shattered instantly. He was thrown backwards, skidding across the pavement. Pummel was knocked off her feet, the remains of her hammer clattering away. Cinderjack staggered, flames guttering as he slammed into the side of the van. The shockwave didn’t stop there. Windows shattered. Dust rained from the rooftops. The nearest building groaned, its brickwork cracking like ice under a boot. Joanie stumbled forward, catching herself on her hands. Her lip split as her face impacted the road. She tasted blood. She looked up to where Trey’s duel with the Detonator was taking place. Dane was already winding his arm back, a sphere the size of an apple glowing deep red in his palm. He hurled it with all his strength. The building behind Trey shuddered again, as Joanie realised what she had done. The shockwave had weakened the structure, and Dane’s explosion had now inadvertently finished the job. The entire top floor began to fall. “Move!” Trey shouted. Everyone scattered. She wasn’t paying attention to where the majority of them went, her eyes instead only going to the people who mattered. She was grateful to see Mina scrambled across the pavement to safety, shielding her head with her arms. Dane on the other hand wasn’t fast enough. A slab of concrete crashed down onto him, his body disappeared under the rubble in a burst of red splatter. Joanie stood frozen in place, her limbs not willing her to move as carnage rained down around her. Thankfully, Trey was not in the same state. He sprinted toward her, grabbed her shoulders, and shoved her with everything he had. She hit the ground hard. A slab of concrete crashed down exactly where she had been standing. Whilst she was now safe, Trey was in the centre of it all. [color=plum]“Trey!”[/color] She called, panic rising in her voice. He threw a bubble around himself as rubble landed around him, quickly burying the sphere. Joanie could barely see him inside. He mouthed something. She thought it was her name. Relief washed over her as she realised he was safe. Then, right as another chunk of wall began to cover it, the bubble collapsed inward like a soap film popping. And Trey vanished. The debris crashed into the empty space where he’d been. Dust billowed. The street shook. Joanie’s scream tore out of her throat.