Esdeath slouched into first period, muscles still aching from the night before. Conversations dropped to whispers as she passed. Nothing new there—she'd always drawn stares. But today felt different.
"Did you see the news?" A girl two rows over leaned toward her friend. "They're calling her the Ice Witch."
"Total urban legend," her friend replied. "Like, what, she just freezes people solid?"
"My brother's friend swears he saw her on Avenue D. Said she turned this mugger into a popsicle."
Esdeath kept her expression neutral, though a flicker of satisfaction warmed her chest. She slid into her seat, casually pulling out her textbook.
Gwen dropped into the chair beside her. "Morning! Heard all the crazy talk?"
"About?"
"This ice vigilante everyone's obsessed with." Gwen rolled her eyes. "Classic New York—one blurry photo and suddenly there's a superhuman ice monster prowling the streets."
"Monster?" Esdeath raised an eyebrow.
"Figure of speech." Gwen shrugged. "Personally, I think it's just some mutant who got caught on camera. The internet's turning it into something bigger."
From two seats ahead, Peter Parker turned slightly, his attention clearly caught despite pretending to read.
"What do you think, Parker?" Esdeath called, enjoying how he jumped at being noticed. "Real or fake?"
He adjusted his glasses. "The photo looks real enough. But who knows?"
His eyes lingered on her a moment too long before turning back around.
The cafeteria buzzed with the usual chaos. Esdeath claimed a corner table, spreading out her chemistry notes while picking at a bland school lunch.
"Mind if I join?" Peter appeared, tray in hand.
She gestured to the empty chair. "Free country."
They ate in awkward silence until Peter cleared his throat. "So, this ice vigilante thing is pretty wild, huh?"
"I guess."
"The temperature around the crime scenes dropped like twenty degrees. Police are baffled."
Esdeath shrugged. "Probably just some mutant figuring out their powers."
"Yeah, maybe." Peter studied her face. "What would you do if you suddenly got powers like that?"
"Hide them," she answered smoothly. "Last thing anyone needs is government types showing up with registration forms and tracking devices."
"Not try to help people?"
"Depends on your definition of 'help.'" She met his gaze evenly. "Sometimes the system needs disruption more than it needs another caped crusader."
Peter's eyes narrowed slightly. "Interesting perspective."
"Just practical." She gathered her books. "See you in bio."
As she walked away, she felt his eyes following her. Too perceptive, that one.
That evening, Esdeath spread components across her bedroom floor: an old laptop her uncle had written off as junk, a radio scanner from a pawn shop, and various electronic parts "borrowed" from her uncle's repair shop.
Following online tutorials, she soldered connections and downloaded software, creating a makeshift police scanner setup. By midnight, she had a working system picking up NYPD dispatch calls.
"Dispatch, we've got a 10-30 at Delancey and Essex..."
"Units responding to 10-10 on West 125th..."
She opened a map on her laptop, marking each crime location with a digital pin. After two hours, patterns emerged—hot spots where response times lagged, neighborhoods where patrols were thin.
Esdeath leaned back, studying her handiwork. Her previous outings had been impulsive, driven by restless energy and the need to test her powers. This was different.
"Time to be strategic," she murmured, circling three neighborhoods with the highest concentration of violent crimes. She'd been playing at being a vigilante. Now she would become something more methodical.
Something the city would truly notice.
The night air bit through Esdeath's modified black hoodie, but she barely noticed. The familiar burn of Lust pulsed through her veins, warming her from within as she vaulted between rooftops. She'd added reinforced boots with ice-resistant soles and a face mask that covered everything below her eyes. Not exactly superhero chic, but it worked.
Her scanner crackled to life on her hip. "All units, 10-31 in progress at Delancey Electronics. Suspect fleeing west on foot with merchandise."
Perfect. Just two blocks away.
Esdeath sprinted across the rooftop and leaped, extending her hand to form an ice bridge that carried her momentum forward. The technique was becoming second nature—ice that formed and shattered in her wake, leaving minimal evidence. She reached the edge of another building and spotted movement below—a figure clutching a backpack, running hard.
"Found you," she whispered, feeling the rush of anticipation.
She followed from above, staying in the shadows. When the suspect cut down an alley, she created an ice slide that spiraled down the side of the building. The sensation was exhilarating—like skateboarding on a roller coaster track of her own making.
The suspect glanced back, saw her coming, and bolted faster. Esdeath grinned behind her mask. The chase triggered something primal in her—the thrill of pursuit, of being the predator. She launched an ice grapple that hooked onto a fire escape, using it to swing ahead of her target.
Landing in a crouch, she cut off his escape route.
"End of the line," she called, her voice steady. "Drop the bag."
The suspect skidded to a halt, backing against the wall. In the dim light, Esdeath noticed something odd—his eyes were glowing a faint orange. As he raised his hands defensively, she saw distorted, elongated fingers that seemed to shimmer with the same energy.
"Stay back!" His voice cracked with fear. He couldn't have been older than fifteen.
"You're a mutant," Esdeath said, lowering her hands slightly.
"I said stay back!" The boy's fingers suddenly flared with plasma-like energy. He thrust his palm forward, sending a weak, unfocused burst that sailed past Esdeath's shoulder, singeing the brick wall behind her.
She sidestepped easily, noting how uncontrolled the blast was. Not an attack—a panicked reflex.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, keeping her distance. "Just calm down."
"Like hell you won't," he spat, but his voice trembled. "Everyone wants to hurt the freak."
Esdeath considered him for a moment, then slowly knelt, putting herself at his level. She extended her palm and formed a small, perfect ice sculpture of a bird. It glistened in the moonlight.
"I'm not everyone," she said quietly, letting the ice melt away. "And you're not a freak."
The boy's glowing eyes widened. "You're... like me?"
"Different, but yes." She gestured to the backpack. "Why steal? There are other ways."
"My mom's sick." His shoulders slumped. "No insurance. I thought I could sell this stuff, get her medicine."
Something in his desperation resonated with Esdeath. She remembered her own helplessness, waking up in this new body, this new world.
"I'm not your enemy," she said, her voice softer than she'd intended. "But this isn't the way."
"I'm Zeke," the boy offered, his glowing eyes dimming slightly as the tension ebbed from his thin frame.
"You got a way home?" Esdeath asked, maintaining her distance.
"Yeah." He clutched the backpack tighter, knuckles white. "You gonna turn me in?"
Esdeath studied him. The weight of the situation settled uncomfortably in her chest. This wasn't some hardened criminal—just a desperate kid trying to survive. The kind of person she'd walked past a hundred times in her previous life without a second thought.
"No," she decided. "But the electronics go back."
Relief flooded his face. "For real?"
"For real." She gestured toward the store. "Leave the bag by the back door. Then go home to your mom."
Zeke hesitated. "What about her medicine?"
Esdeath reached into her pocket and pulled out the cash she'd brought for emergencies. Not much—just sixty dollars—but it was something.
"Take it," she said, holding it out. "It's not stolen."
He accepted the money with trembling fingers. "Why are you helping me?"
"Because someone should." The words came out before she could analyze them. "Because the system doesn't care about people like us."
Zeke nodded slowly, understanding passing between them. He set the backpack down carefully.
"What's your name?" he asked. "The real one, not what they're calling you on the news."
"Doesn't matter." She stepped back into the shadows. "Just be smarter next time. Find a better way."
"Thanks," he whispered, backing away. "I won't forget this."
Esdeath watched him disappear around the corner, his footsteps fading into the night. Something uncomfortable twisted in her gut—not regret exactly, but awareness. She'd been hunting for fights, for the rush of power, treating this like some twisted game. But there were real people caught in the crossfire.
Later, perched on a water tower, she gazed across the city's glittering expanse. The encounter with Zeke lingered in her mind. How many others were out there? Mutants struggling alone, figuring out powers they never asked for, fighting battles no one else could see?
The wind whipped her hair as she stood. Maybe it was time to find others like her—not just for allies or information, but because they deserved better than fumbling through the dark alone. The thought of seeking out other mutants had always been a distant "eventually" in her mind.
But "eventually" had just become "now."
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