Simple Unicycle
ThisIsFine
February 28th, 8:37 PM
Justice Station, Space
Justice Station, Space
”Welcome back, Operative Grim.”
The heavy thump of boots against the floor of the dock didn’t even make a sound in the vacuum of space, the impact of the space suit’s soles lost in the oppressive silence. With it, the feminine and robotic voice of the Justice Station’s AI was a welcome comfort, broadcast via the comm’s built into the same suit’s helmet.
”Standby for decompression.”
Sound returned slowly, and with it the artificial gravity that brought Grim’s weight bearing down once more. The quiet hum of machinery all around, the pistons pumping oxygen into the sealed room in preparation of the space suit’s removal, and the happy little beep of the oxygen counter letting her know the levels were rising. Finally, a hiss, and then the voice was all throughout the room.
”Decompression complete. Time of space walk: three hours and fifty five minutes. Vitals normal, oxygen levels normal, stress levels lowered…”
The first breath of air not taken from the helmet was crisp, a faint hint of trees - a special request to modify the sterile air the oxygen scrubbers pumped out. It was with practiced ease the sturdy, expensive suit built to fare space was taken off and set back in place. The glass cylinder closed and with a few presses to the keypad beside it began humming as the suit was automatically checked for any faults or repairs that had popped up on her venture.
”-mechanical liver remains optimal, blood-”
”A.I., update list of Justice Station repairs.”
”Updating. February 28th, ice build up on western arm port 3 and 5 removed. Source of heating failure located and...”
Cold business, space.
Pale fingers found a nearby data pad in the belongings Grim had removed on preparing for her space walk. The list was already updating before her eyes, another in a very long list checked off. In truth, much of it was automated or handled by specially built repair bots - even Grim couldn’t keep up with an entire space station’s worth of problems, no matter how indestructible it was built. Especially considering who the prime visitors were.
At least Girard was getting better at figuring out his jumps. It’s been weeks since he’s slammed into the station’s shields, or shot right by it.
Zoey’s typical humming echoed off the empty walls as she moved through the station, the A. I.’s voice following along no matter where she moved. Even with the automation a human eye was still needed to look over everything, and to be honest? Working on the Justice Station was welcome, even though the bots would’ve eventually gotten to the ice build up as well. It was her pride and joy, after all. And a couple hours of breather before…
Ah, yes.
The main computer of the Justice Station lay exactly as Grim had left it, the screen that took up the majority of the spacious room’s far wall displaying a combination of schematics, news articles, and a lone video feed in Russian that was so long it kept playing all throughout her space walk.
“...мы, конечно, благодарны героям…”
A heavy sigh escaped Zoey’s lips as she sat heavily on the single chair in front of the broad screens. This wasn’t the meeting room after all, and she was often the only one using the computer to such extent. Immediately a keypad came to life, slightly translucent as it hovered before her. The Gotham hero dropped the data pad to the side, ignoring the keyboard for now to rub between her eyes.
”Operative Grim, blood pressure rising. Administer sedative?”
”No, A. I.” Why had she even programmed that in?
“...десять лет назад я не был бы на пути к работе-”
”Turn off video.” Silence once more filled the room, but only for a moment before another heavy sigh puffed out from the lone woman. ”A. I., are the crime rate statistics I asked for prepared?”
”Yes, Operative Grim.”
”Report.”
”Global crime increased by three percent since January 2025. Since January 2026, global crime decreased by zero point eight…”
An improvement, at least. Crime had dropped drastically after the Justice Station had been built, but it had been a calm. There would always be those who would do what they wanted, no matter the threat.
Plus no one wanted her to name this big hunk of metal “Deterrent”. A shame, really.
The Justice Station A.I. continued to drone in that mechanically pleasant voice, images occasionally flashing up on screen to corroborate its gathered data. Grim merely nodded along, frown growing and brows furrowing the longer she listened.
”... no updates on galactic threat ‘Interloper’. Global threat ‘Calamity’ remains incarcerated in Rock of Eternity, last update January 25th 2026. Global threat ‘B.O.B.’ remains unseen since retreat into Indian Ocean after engagement in June 2025 by Operatives Velocity and Aquaman…”
Really, if that thing showed up again it’d be Orin in her earpiece far quicker than this to be fair.
”One thousand, two hundred, and five changes of note to region ‘North America’ since last update…”
Another groan.
”Apply filters one to five and report.”
”Updating. Street level reports on metagenes and homo magi of note are as follows: ‘Armada’ avoided arrest in San Francisco, California February 25th, three police officers and one civilian dead after latest engagement.”
That place really needed more heroes. Grim would have to drop by. Again.
”...‘Arsenal’ latest spotting February 14th, Central City, continuing east. ‘Azron’ killed in action February 19th, robbery…”
”Compile information on Azron and send it to me. Continue.”
”... ‘Hark’ incarcerated in Las Vegas, hostages still missing. ‘Hurricane’ successfully emerged in Coast City. ‘Ion’ engaged with military …”
February 26th, 8:03 PM
Coast City, California
Coast City, California
It had taken weeks, months for this perfect time to roll around. Sure, there were little things that he could’ve stepped in for, but call him a perfectionist! There was nothing in stopping some ATM bandits, a gas station robbery, a car jacking.
No, this is where the big leagues were.
Police lights illuminating the white building, cars surrounding the bank, crowds of civilians, and numerous news vans.
And with their focus all-encompassing on the First Bank of America, lightning.
”THE STORM HAS ARRIVED!”
The wind and clouds had carried him, and the crash of thunder announced him as the figure slammed down through the ceiling of the bank. The lightning that had surrounded the masked individual in a protective shield dispersed as soon as his feet touched the floor, surging up to emerge from his body unnaturally - and conveniently avoiding anyone who may be, say, laying on the floor at gunpoint.
”Don’t worry, citizens! Justice has arrived!” The unexpected surge of volts through their bodies had the majority of the armed robbers grounded but one - just one! - had managed to hold onto his weapon despite collapsing. It was very obvious when a bullet zoomed by his head, embedding in the wall behind him.
His heart rate doubled, and he immediately slammed a foot into the ground.
The smell of burnt tile and flesh assaulted his nose, a zig-zagging scorch mark splitting open the floor towards the armed robber who now lay still. The masked figure in dark blue breathed heavily, staring wide eyed down at this man - hidden beneath the blue and silver mask covering his face.
When the man on the floor coughed and took in a shuddering breath, the vigilante let out a sigh of relief.
That would’ve been such a downer.
This though, this wasn’t. With the armed robbers down in one fell swoop, the hostages were gathered up and Coast City’s latest hero graciously escorted them to the entrance. Immediately he was lit up in lights, spotlights and cameras pointed to him, cheers and questions. And into it all, he raised his hands, a smile twisting his lips beneath the mask.
”Coast City, fear no longer…
The Hurricane has blown in!”
February 28th, 9:11 PM
Justice Station, Space
Justice Station, Space
”... And Zegai was recently captured by the police’s anti-meta force in Anchorage, Alaska.”
Anti-Meta force. All too common, recently. The police in America had already begun being militarized in 2020, but with things … settled more or less, it had come to an extreme. Not to the common public, of course! But squads of people meant to take out those who would pose a threat to the general public, particularly in cities without an established hero.
Grim didn’t particularly like it, but she could understand it.
”Shall I continue into organized crime, Operative Grim?”
”In summary mode still, A.I.”
“Of course, Operative Grim. No updates on Syndicate ‘Blue Beetle’ in California. Syndicate ‘Cambono’ crippled following police raid on city’s main docks in Austin, Texas. Syndicate ‘Iron Jaw’ appears to be expanding into Hub City…”
”Great. Arcana is gonna have a fun time weeding out more organized crime if they aren’t careful.
February 28th, 9:36 PM
Hub City, Illinois
Hub City, Illinois
”Be careful, you idiot! You’re gonna burn everything!”
”Sorry, Mirage…”
”Yeah, you’re gonna be sorry if anything important is melted.”
The sizzling finally died down, left to a quiet bubbling. With it, a large person-sized hole melted into the very wall of the sleazy strip club, the edges bubbling away a sickly green. Immediately the tall woman beside her companion shoved him away and clambored in, careful not to touch the edges.
”Alright, I’m in. Where is it, Russo?”
The phone in the pink-haired girl’s hand hummed thoughtfully, a deep voice answering.
”Should be in the safe on the wall… have the kid handle it.”
”Frankie!” The ‘kid’ in question jumped, having been hovering outside the hole. At his pink-haired companion’s words he tentatively climbed in, not bothering to try and not touch the edges - a little of the goop stuck to the sleeveless, bright yellow radiation jumper he wore, and smeared across his sickly-green tinted skin. “Go on, open.”
”Okay…” Frankie sucked in a breath, it snorting through his nose… then promptly hocked a wad of spit at the wall. Immediately it began sizzling, as it did so the boy rubbed his hands together before similarly rubbing his slimy palms against the crevices of the safe in the wall. It took only seconds for it to eat away, the wall of the safe landing with a loud clang.
”You fucking moron!” Mirage was there immediately, grabbing everything inside - documents, money, a gun. ”I swear, if ol’ Iron Jaw didn’t like you so much - you’re fucking useless -”
”Get out. Destroy the room.”
”You heard him!” With everything in hand the brightly dressed woman jumped back out the opening, and was gone. Frankie looked slightly panicked, but… he was given an order. Rubbing the corrosive slime coating his body, shaking it off, spitting and sneezing on everything…
Then the door was opening, and he panicked.
With the owner of the strip club screaming from the acidic loogie that landed square on his chest, Frankie booked it out of there to try and find where Mirage had went.
He really hoped this was worth it. What was so important that Russo wanted information on ‘The Question’ so soon after being broken out anyway? And why did some strip club owner have it?
Whatever, it wasn’t his place to question it.
February 28th, 9:52 PM
Justice Station, Space
Justice Station, Space
To be quite frank, in the face of all this ... Grim could use a drink. If only she hadn’t made that promise; no drinking on the space station unless you’re staying the night. Which, she couldn’t obviously - Malcolm and Karen were coming home tonight. Henry had been working all day to test his recipes for it - they were delicious, as usual. He was going to make her fat eventually.
Still, it was time to go home.
”Anything else to report, A.I.? Anything from Harris and his... 'problem'?”
”Nothing of note in the crime reports or from Operative Vinestalker, Operative Grim. Do you wish to review Gotham reports? 'Red Hood' has been involved in numerous-
”I know about that one. I'll deal with it. Put up the usual alerts-”
”Alert: Designation: Pup has been involved in an altercation.”
Silence.
”What?! He’s been in Gotham for literally-” Zoey surged to her feet, steel-blue eyes flicking to the time in the corner. ”Fuck. I lost track of - next time set a reminder, A.I.. And prepare the Space Grim for immediate departure!”
”Of course, Operative Grim.”
It was all so … quiet.
She remembered when she used to like it like that. Liked raging for hours, moving with the flow, jumping and dancing and then going home, to collapse on her bed and enjoy how silent the night was in comparison.
Then it was too quiet.
No voice. No screams. No… Anna.
And now, she never would be Anna again.
March 01, 00:05
Metropolis, Delaware
Metropolis, Delaware
It was another quiet night.
Just like every other, James supposed. There was never much going on in the Metropolis Art Gallery. Rats mostly, that no one in the upper offices wanted to acknowledge, and every once in awhile a couple kids who hid out in the bathrooom until close so they could make out in the darkness.
“Hey!”
And well, kids would be kids. James tried not to let the smile show in his voice or the twitch of his lips beneath a thick moustache as he approached the figure he had caught - definitely just a teenager. Short, thin. Probably the same as every other kid, just staying passed opening on a dare. Sure, he could bust their ass hard, but... Well, couldn’t really blame them, he was a kid once. Still, he instilled all the authority as he walked toward them.
“You know, all the lights being off and no one around? Typically means it’s passed closing time, Miss. What are you doing here?”
Silence.
“Miss.” She didn’t move. It was … off, really. Too off. James frowned, raising his flashlight. The girl’s skin was deathly pale and she was dressed oddly - a black dress which just seemed a little too rumpled, hair a little too tangled, no shoes and arms wrapped around herself.
“Are you alright?” The concern was thick in his voice as James approached, reaching out for the girl’s shoulder.
His flashlight dropped.
His scream echoed.
James would be found the next morning, dead on the floor with no apparent injury - until the coroner finds his heart missing, with no wound to speak of.
And Anna no where to be found.