DeShawn stood at the edge of the track, watching his teammates finish their cool-down laps. Even at rest, everything moved with a slight sluggishness - just enough to be irritating, like watching a video at 90% speed.

"DeShawn, my man!" Coach Martinez approached, tablet in hand. "Another record today. You're making history out here!"

DeShawn smiled, practicing the careful balance of humble pride he'd perfected. Two seconds off the 1k record. He hadn't even been trying - had just gotten lost in thought for a moment, and by the time he'd noticed...

"The scouts are going crazy," Martinez continued. "Never seen anything like your progression since the break. Whatever soul-searching you did on that river trip, it's paying off big time."

A cluster of teammates approached, and DeShawn felt the familiar rush of satisfaction at their obvious admiration. This part - the attention, the worship in their eyes - this made the pretense worth it.

"Man, you've got to tell us your secret," Trevor said, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Your times are insane!"

DeShawn's smile widened, genuine this time. "Just found my motivation," he said, enjoying how they hung on his every word. "Sometimes you need a wake-up call to show you what you're really capable of."

"Seriously though," Marcus said, studying DeShawn's face, "you're not even sweating. Rest of us are out here dying, and you haven't even done your cooldown lap."

DeShawn kept his expression carefully neutral, mentally cursing his oversight. He should have at least faked some exertion after breaking another record.

"Man, we need to start calling you Ice-Man," Chris chimed in, still catching his breath. "Cool as ice after every run. Like nothing even touches you anymore."

"Ice-Man," Trevor echoed, nodding. "That fits. Especially with how you've been crushing these records like they're nothing."

DeShawn laughed, letting their admiration wash over him while quickly dabbing his face with a towel to create the illusion of effort. "Just focused," he said, knowing they'd accept any explanation from their star runner. "When you're in the zone, you don't even feel it, you know?"

Coach Martinez was still scanning his tablet, shaking his head in amazement. "Whatever zone you're in, stay there. Numbers like these, you're not just going to nationals - you're going to rewrite the record books."

DeShawn's grin spread across his face at the coach's words, a genuine expression of satisfaction. Being remembered for breaking records, for achievements that were his choice - even if they were just a fraction of his true capabilities - felt like sweet justice after those years of being nothing but a weapon, a trained attack dog for a fascist regime.

"Planning on it, Coach," he said, savoring each word. Let them see this edited version of his power, let them write his name in the history books. Not as Tempest, the enhanced hunter who'd been forced to chase down dissidents, but as DeShawn, the track star who rewrote the record books.

"Man, that grin," Trevor laughed. "You already know exactly how nationals is gonna go, don't you?"

DeShawn just kept smiling. They had no idea - couldn't have any idea - how easy it all was now. But the glory? The recognition? That was real. That was his to claim, on his own terms this time.

"Hell, at this rate I could win NASCAR on foot if I wanted," DeShawn said with a laugh, enjoying the way the others chuckled at what they thought was just athletic bravado.

Trevor slapped his shoulder, still laughing. "Man, your confidence is something else!"

But behind DeShawn's answering grin was the knowledge that it wasn't just confidence. He could do it - could outrun the cars, maintain that speed for hours, probably even have time to wave to the cameras as he lapped the field. The thought almost made him laugh for real. Three hundred miles per hour on foot? The cars wouldn't even see him pass.

"Alright, enough daydreaming about NASCAR," Coach Martinez said, still grinning. "Hit the showers, all of you. DeShawn, we'll talk about adjusting your training schedule tomorrow. Need to make sure we're optimizing your preparation for nationals."

DeShawn nodded, knowing any "optimization" would just mean more pretending, more holding back, more careful calculation of exactly how much to reveal. But the payoff - the recognition, the glory, the chance to make history on his own terms - that made it all worthwhile.

The last of his teammates had pulled away in their cars when DeShawn spotted Nathan lounging against the athletics building wall. The leather jacket looked expensive - or had been before whatever roughing up had left those particular scuff marks. The predatory grin on Nathan's face promised an interesting evening ahead.

"Hear you broke another record today," Nathan called out, his smile showing too many teeth. "Must be exhausting, pretending to be tired afterward."

DeShawn matched his grin, finally able to drop the careful facade he'd maintained all practice. "Almost forgot to wipe my face with a towel this time. They started calling me Ice-Man."

"Cute," Nathan pushed off from the wall with that unnaturally fluid grace he now possessed. "But I've got something more interesting than playing track star planned for tonight. Something that'll actually get your blood pumping."

The sun was setting behind the campus buildings, casting long shadows that seemed to emphasize the predatory energy radiating from both of them.

"Owner of the jacket make it?" DeShawn asked, eyeing the scuff marks with knowing amusement.

Nathan shrugged, that savage grin never leaving his face. "Maybe? Don't know. Wasn't really concerned with checking his pulse after he decided to take offense to my... borrowing... his bike."

They walked across campus, two predators pretending to be normal students. The parking lot was mostly empty when they reached it, the last evening classes letting out. There, gleaming under the lot lights, sat a Harley Davidson that had clearly seen some recent customization work.

"Nice bike," DeShawn said, knowing full well how Nathan had acquired it.

"Previous owner had good taste," Nathan replied, running his hand along the chrome. "Shame about his attitude problem."

"Why slow yourself down on purpose?" Nathan said, watching DeShawn pull out his Mercedes keys. His grin turned sharper, more challenging. "Want to really have some fun?"

DeShawn paused, key fob in hand. Even with just his passive abilities, he could feel time dragging slightly as he considered. The Mercedes - another symbol of his carefully maintained 'High Value Man' image, another prop in his performance of normalcy.

"What'd you have in mind?" he asked, though the predatory smile spreading across his own face suggested he already knew.

"Race you to city limits," Nathan's eyes gleamed with that unnatural intensity he never bothered hiding anymore. "You on foot, me on the bike. See who's really faster without all those..." he gestured back toward the track, "limitations."

"Tempting," DeShawn said, his grin fading to something more controlled. "But not from here." He glanced meaningfully at the security cameras covering the parking lot. "Got an image to maintain. Just broke another record today - can't have anyone wondering how the star athlete moves faster than a motorcycle."

Nathan's expression soured slightly. "Still playing their games? Come on, man. Who cares what they think?"

"I do," DeShawn said firmly, clicking his key fob. "Spent too long building this reputation to throw it away. Besides," he added with a knowing smirk, "some of us still like having a public life to go back to." He opened his car door. "We can have our fun later, somewhere less... monitored."

"Fine," Nathan growled, swinging onto the Harley. "Your loss. But when you're done pretending to be their golden boy..." He revved the engine, letting the threat of real entertainment hang in the air.

"Besides," DeShawn said, sliding into his Mercedes' leather seat, "heard there were some dangerous animals on campus today. Something about property damage in the Computer Ethics building?" His smile held a mix of amusement and understanding. "Let's take this somewhere more fitting."

Nathan's predatory grin returned full force. "Fair enough." He revved the Harley again. "Follow me then. Know a place where we won't have to worry about..." he glanced at the security cameras, "unwanted attention."

The bike's engine roared as Nathan pulled out of the parking lot, DeShawn's Mercedes falling in behind him. Two predators leaving their hunting ground, heading somewhere they could let their masks slip completely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rose's fingers danced across ethereal interfaces while Hazel monitored multiple holographic displays, each showing different data streams and surveillance feeds. The command center they'd established in the warehouse section of their base hummed with both conventional and otherworldly technology.

"Got movement," Hazel said, her eyes never leaving her screens. "Nathan's heading east from the university. And... interesting. DeShawn's with him this time." She pulled up additional data streams, including feeds from the city's CCTV network - a precaution they'd implemented after that TikTok video of Nathan had nearly gone viral last week.

Rose glanced up from her work, ethereal wisps still curling around her hands. "DeShawn? That's new. Nathan usually hunts alone."

"Not anymore, apparently." Hazel brought up a map overlay, tracking both vehicles. "And given Nathan's new 'acquisition'," she gestured to the Harley on one of the feeds, "I'm guessing this isn't just a social call."

"Should we alert Alex?" Rose asked, her work momentarily forgotten.

"Let's wait," Hazel said, fingers moving across her interface to expand the surveillance coverage. "See what they're really up to. Alex has enough on his plate with the Nathan situation as it is."

Rose moved closer to the displays, her tech creating ethereal trails as she shifted. "Nathan's been bad enough alone. If he's starting to pull others in..."

"Exactly why we need to understand what's happening," Hazel responded, eyes tracking the feeds as Nathan's Harley and DeShawn's Mercedes moved through the city. "DeShawn's been keeping up appearances better than most of us. If Nathan's managed to crack that facade..." She pulled up DeShawn's recent tracking data with a gesture.

"You've been monitoring him too?"

"I monitor everyone, Rose. It's literally my job." Hazel's tone was matter-of-fact as she expanded multiple windows. "And something's been off with his patterns lately. Just couldn't pin down what."

"Hazel here," she answered the comm, her tone shifting to something more guarded. Kyle's calls were rare these days, especially to her, given their history.

"Yeah, hey," Kyle's voice carried that forced casual tone he used when trying to pretend things weren't awkward. "So, Nathan just cut me off on 15th. On a Harley. With DeShawn following in his Mercedes. Since when are those two hanging out?"

Hazel's fingers never stopped moving across her displays, adding Kyle's delivery truck to the tracking grid. "As of today, apparently. You're sure it was them?"

"Kind of hard to miss Nathan these days. Something about the way he moves..." Kyle paused. "Look, I know I've been keeping my distance from... everything. But that didn't look like a social drive."

Rose glanced at Hazel, noting the slight tension in her posture at Kyle's voice. After everything that happened with Zoe...

"We're monitoring it," Hazel said professionally. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Right. Yeah. Just... be careful. Nathan's been..." Another pause. "Just be careful."

The comm clicked off, and Hazel let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"If Kyle noticed something off, it's getting obvious," Rose said, pulling up traffic cam footage of the encounter. The way Nathan had cut across three lanes on the Harley showed a complete disregard for safety - or maybe just confidence that nothing could hurt him anymore.

Hazel's fingers flew across the interface, predicting their route based on traffic patterns. "They're heading toward the warehouse district. Lots of blind spots in our coverage out there." Her jaw tightened. "Exactly where I'd go if I was hunting."

"Wait-" Rose leaned forward, ethereal tech illuminating her face as she enhanced one of the feeds. "Look at DeShawn's expression. He's not just following Nathan."

The enhanced image showed DeShawn behind the wheel, and his smile held the same predatory edge they'd seen too often on Nathan lately.

"God, I hate seeing that look on him," Rose murmured, remembering the DeShawn they'd known in that other world - how his hunger for status had twisted under the regime's influence. "We just got him back from being their attack dog."

Hazel's expression hardened as she tracked their movement through the cameras. "And now he's falling right back into old patterns. Different world, same DeShawn." She brought up another feed. "At least before he was following orders. This time it's his choice."

"You think that makes it better or worse?" Rose asked, her tech swirling with increased agitation. The memories were still fresh - DeShawn running down dissidents with that same smile, always performing for an audience, even if the audience had changed.

"Worse," Hazel said flatly, watching the Mercedes and Harley disappear into a camera blind spot. "Before, we could blame the regime. Now?" She shook her head. "This is who he wants to be."

"He won't risk his public image," Hazel said, but her tone held a note of uncertainty. "That's the one thing DeShawn's always protected. Even in the other world, he made sure to look like the perfect soldier, the ideal enforcer. It was never just about the hunt for him."

"No," Rose agreed, watching the vehicles emerge on another feed. "It was about the recognition. The status." Her ethereal tech pulsed as she brought up another angle. "And Nathan's offering him a different kind of status now."

Hazel's fingers paused over the interface. "A predator's status. The kind he had to hide before." She resumed typing, expanding their surveillance net. "But Nathan doesn't care about hiding anymore. He's getting bolder, and if he convinces DeShawn that he doesn't need to hide either..."

"They're turning onto Fischer Street," Rose interrupted, highlighting a new feed. "That's gang territory. Lots of potential targets, minimal police presence."

"And enough ambient violence that a few missing people won't draw immediate attention." Hazel's voice was grim. "Perfect hunting ground for someone who wants to test their limits."

"Maybe we should let Alex know now," Rose said, tracking another camera feed. "This isn't just Nathan being Nathan anymore. If DeShawn's joining his hunts-"

"If who's joining whose hunts?" Alex's voice came from the side entrance as he walked in, still dressed in business casual from property viewings. He moved to join them at the monitoring station, his expression shifting from tired to concerned as he took in the displays.

"Nathan's got a new hunting partner," Hazel said, quickly bringing up the relevant feeds. "DeShawn's decided to join him. They're heading into gang territory off Fischer Street."

Alex's posture tensed as he watched the footage. "Well, that complicates things. How long have they been out?"

"Just started," Rose replied, her ethereal tech swirling with increased intensity. "Kyle called it in after Nathan cut him off in traffic. They're being... less than subtle."

"Of course they are," Alex muttered, leaning closer to study the surveillance feeds. "Because we definitely needed DeShawn picking up Nathan's new habits. Did either of you spot what set this off?"

"Hard to pin down," Hazel replied, bringing up the earlier footage from the university. "DeShawn was at track practice, breaking records again. Nathan showed up after in a new leather jacket and Harley - both 'acquired' from someone he ran into." She pulled up the parking lot camera feed. "Looks like Nathan tried to goad him into a race first - him on the bike, DeShawn on foot."

"DeShawn turned that down," Rose added, highlighting the relevant clip. "Said something about maintaining his image, not from campus. But he followed Nathan anyway."

Alex watched the footage, his expression darkening. "So he's still trying to keep up appearances, but the temptation's getting to him. After being the regime's star hunter for fifteen years..." He shook his head. "Nathan probably didn't have to push very hard."

"Kyle said Nathan's movements were getting obvious," Hazel noted, tracking their current position. "If he's starting to be that careless in public, and now he's drawing others in..."

"How many times has Nathan gone hunting?" Alex asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer wouldn't be good.

"How many times has Nathan gone hunting since we got back?" Alex asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer wouldn't be good.

"Three confirmed incidents," Hazel replied, pulling up the data with quick gestures. "First was the convenience store robbery he 'interrupted' two days after we returned. Then the street racing crew he targeted day before yesterday. And last night..." She brought up grainy footage of an alley encounter. "Well, we're still not sure what happened to those guys."

"And now he's got DeShawn joining him," Rose said, her tech casting shifting shadows as she tracked their current position. "DeShawn who spent seven years as the Concordance's perfect hunter before everything went sideways."

"The problem isn't just that Nathan's hunting," Alex said, studying the feeds. "It's that he's getting sloppy. Showing off. And if he convinces DeShawn that he doesn't need to hide what he can do..." He let the implication hang in the air.

"They're slowing down," Hazel interrupted, focusing on a new feed. "Looks like they've found something interesting in the warehouse district."

"Got a weapons deal going down," Hazel reported, her fingers flying across multiple feeds to get better angles. "Local gang, looks like... Thirteenth Street crew based on the tags. Moving something big out of that warehouse."

"Perfect target for Nathan," Alex muttered, leaning in to study the footage. "Enough potential for violence to satisfy his new appetites, but still technically on the right side of the law if anyone asks questions."

Rose's tech swirled as she enhanced another camera view. "DeShawn's parking the Mercedes well back, out of sight. Nathan's... of course he's just riding straight up to them." She shook her head. "He really doesn't care about subtlety anymore."

"The question is," Hazel said, pulling up thermal imaging from a nearby security system she'd tapped into, "is DeShawn going to follow Nathan's lead on this? Or is he still going to try to maintain his cover?"

They watched as Nathan dismounted the Harley, his movements carrying that predatory grace that made him so unsettling lately. DeShawn emerged from the shadows behind the warehouse, having apparently circled around on foot.

"Damn it," Alex swore, his fists clenching as he watched the scene unfold. His eyes darted to the far corner of the garage where the powered armor sat under its tarp, still only half-finished. It could get them there in minutes, but the sight of flying armor would draw exactly the kind of attention they'd been trying to avoid since getting back.

"We could take the van," Rose suggested, but her tone made it clear she knew it was pointless.

"By the time we get through evening traffic, it'll be long over," Hazel said, her fingers never stopping their dance across the interfaces. "You know how fast Nathan works now. And with DeShawn's speed added to the mix..."

Alex ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "And calling the police would just put more potential victims in their path. All we can do is..." He gestured at the screens. "Watch. Document. Try to contain the fallout."

The gang members were barely visible in the poor lighting of the warehouse district cameras, but they could see Nathan's distinctive movement as he approached, with DeShawn's shadow circling to the rear of the building.

"They're about to make their move," Hazel reported, trying to track both of them across the fragmented camera coverage.

"There goes Nathan," Rose reported, watching him stride directly into view of the gang members. Even through the grainy footage, they could see the moment the gang realized something was wrong - that predatory grace in Nathan's movement setting off instinctive alarms.

"Lost visual on DeShawn," Hazel reported, switching rapidly between cameras. "Too many blind spots between buildings."

They watched as Nathan said something to the gang members - his posture radiating the kind of confidence that only came from knowing you were the apex predator in the room. Two of the gang members pulled guns.

"Here we go," Alex muttered.

The feed showed Nathan's unnaturally fast reaction as the first shots were fired - his body moving with that fluid grace that marked him as something beyond human now. Then suddenly DeShawn was there, a blur of motion that the cameras could barely track, and two of the armed men were down before the others could even turn.

"We can't keep letting this happen," Rose said quietly, watching the violence unfold across their screens.

"There's a blind spot in camera three's coverage-" Hazel started, but was cut off by the sound of crushing metal as Alex's cybernetic fist slammed into one of the storage shelves, warping the frame like it was made of tin foil.

"We just got back," he growled, frustration evident in every line of his body. "One week. We've been back one week and they're already..." He gestured at the screens with his other hand, where Nathan and DeShawn were making short work of the gang members. "This isn't the Concordance. They don't have to be hunters anymore. They don't have to be weapons."

Rose and Hazel exchanged glances as Alex pulled his fist from the mangled shelf, small servos whirring as his fingers flexed.

"The problem is," Hazel said, still tracking what feeds she could, "I don't think they're doing this because they have to. They're doing it because they want to."

"Look at their body language," Rose noted, her ethereal tech casting shifting patterns as she gestured at a feed showing Nathan and DeShawn standing amid the aftermath. "They're not just hunting. They're performing. Showing off for each other."

"Like they're comparing notes," Hazel agreed, switching angles to try to get a better view. "Nathan's found someone who can keep up with him, and DeShawn..." She paused, frowning at the screens. "DeShawn's found someone who appreciates his capabilities without him having to hold back."

"A mutual enabling society," Alex said bitterly, flexing his cybernetic hand as he studied the footage. Small pieces of shelf metal tinkled to the floor. "And they're just getting started. This was DeShawn's first hunt since we got back - you really think it's going to be his last?"

On the screens, they could see Nathan and DeShawn moving through the warehouse with casual efficiency, checking containers and crates with the practiced ease of people who'd done this kind of sweep countless times before.

"They're going to escalate," Hazel said quietly. "You know they will. Nathan's already been pushing boundaries, and now..."

"Where are you-" Rose started, but Alex was already pulling the modified helmet from the rack, shrugging on his custom-fitted armored jacket that accommodated the connection ports and servos of his cybernetics.

"Patch me into the feeds, Hazel," he said, voice carrying the tone of someone who wasn't asking. "I need to have a chat with Nathan before this gets worse. A personal one."

"Your Triumph isn't exactly subtle," Hazel noted, but her fingers were already moving across interfaces, linking the helmet's HUD to their surveillance network. "And Nathan's not exactly in a listening mood lately."

"Good thing the Rocket's got enough power to keep up then," Alex replied, checking the jacket's reinforced panels. "At least long enough to deliver a message." He paused at the door. "Keep tracking them. I want to know the moment they finish up at the warehouse."

Rose's tech swirled with concern. "And if Nathan decides he doesn't want to chat?"

"Then I'll remind him that he's not the only one who came back changed." Alex's cybernetic hand flexed meaningfully as he headed for the front of the building where the massive Triumph waited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nathan surveyed the carnage with unconcealed satisfaction, boots crunching on spent shell casings as he moved between the fallen gang members. Most were still breathing - barely - though the two who'd made the mistake of pulling guns first hadn't survived their encounter with DeShawn's enhanced speed.

"Not bad for your first hunt back," Nathan said, brushing at the bullet holes in his jacket. Five flattened slugs tinkled to the concrete floor, his enhanced flesh having already healed the minor wounds. "Though you held back on most of them."

DeShawn was examining his knuckles, the skin unbroken despite the force he'd used. His earlier hesitation about maintaining his image seemed forgotten in the aftermath of violence. "Didn't want to kill them all. Gets messy." He looked up with that predatory grin they'd both worn in the Concordance. "Besides, survivors spread stories. Dead men don't."

The reinforcements who'd shown up partway through lay scattered near the entrance - their arrival had just given DeShawn a chance to really demonstrate his speed. One had managed to radio for help before Nathan got to him, but they'd be long gone before anyone else arrived.

"Found what they were moving," Nathan called from inside one of the trucks. "Looks like-" He paused at the sound of an approaching motorcycle, different from his Harley's rumble. "We've got company coming."

"That's our cue," DeShawn said, already moving toward the exit. Even with his enhanced abilities, he wasn't looking to advertise what they'd done here more than necessary. The track star still had an image to maintain, after all.

Nathan spared one last glance at the truck's contents before following, that predatory grin still playing across his face. "Might want to take the long way back," he said, stepping over an unconscious gang member. "Let our visitor chase his tail for a bit."

They could hear the motorcycle getting closer - not the familiar roar of Nathan's stolen Harley, but something quieter, more refined. Nathan headed for his bike while DeShawn moved toward where he'd parked the Mercedes.

"Same time tomorrow?" Nathan called out, swinging onto the Harley.

DeShawn's answering smile held a new edge. "Maybe. Depends on how interesting things get."

Nathan gunned the Harley's engine, more interested in the raw feel of the machine than concerned about whatever rider was approaching. Probably some local who'd heard the gunfire, or maybe more gang backup arriving too late to help their friends.

He pulled out of the warehouse lot, deliberately taking the most visible route. Anyone following him would keep attention away from DeShawn's more subtle departure, and if they were stupid enough to chase him... well, that might make the night even more interesting. The stolen jacket fluttered around the bullet holes as he accelerated, the wounds beneath already nothing but phantom memories to his modified flesh.

The city streets opened before him, late evening traffic creating an obstacle course that his enhanced reflexes turned into a playground. He wove between cars with unnatural precision, each movement displaying the kind of control that no human rider could match. Behind him, the unknown motorcycle's engine grew louder - someone actually trying to keep up. Nathan's predatory grin widened. This might be fun after all.

Nathan wove through traffic, enjoying the thrill of the chase, until a dark shape in his mirrors caught his attention - a massive motorcycle closing the distance with surprising speed. The pursuing bike's rider, wrapped in armored gear, handled the machine with the kind of precision that spoke of either extensive experience or enhanced abilities.

The gap between them narrowed despite Nathan's aggressive maneuvering. The Harley, for all its raw power, couldn't match the pure acceleration and handling of his pursuer's machine. Nathan cut across two lanes and down a side street, forcing cars to brake hard, but the rider behind him followed the same line with even greater precision.

The pursuit was becoming less amusing by the second. Nathan hadn't expected anyone to be able to keep up, let alone gain on him. He gunned the Harley's engine again, pushing it to its limits as he sought the narrow gaps between cars that no normal rider would attempt. But every time he checked his mirrors, the dark shape of the other motorcycle was there, closing the distance meter by meter, the three-cylinder engine's distinctive whine growing louder.

Nathan caught the flash of red and blue lights in his mirrors behind his persistent pursuer - now this was getting complicated. He cut down another side street, the Harley's engine roaring as he pushed it harder, but the heavyweight bike wallowed slightly in the tight turn. The mystery rider on his tail took the same corner with far more precision, the more sophisticated machine barely seeming to notice the maneuver.

The police cruiser's siren joined the night's symphony, but it was falling behind both of them as Nathan and his immediate pursuer threaded through traffic at speeds that made the patrol bike's pursuit reckless at best. Still, having the cops involved meant his options were becoming limited. The warehouse district's mazes were behind them now, and ahead...

Nathan processed the situation with his enhanced mind - the pursuing bike's superior capabilities, the dwindling escape routes, the growing police presence. This wasn't the kind of attention he'd planned on drawing. Not tonight. Not with DeShawn's first hunt having gone so perfectly until now.

He spotted a narrow alley ahead, barely wide enough for a motorcycle. If he timed it right...

The alley loomed ahead, a narrow corridor between brick walls. Nathan leaned the Harley into it at full speed, metal scraping brick as he threaded the needle. The pursuing bike followed without hesitation, its rider somehow managing the tight space with even more control.

The exit appeared ahead, streetlights promising escape - until the squad car shot across the alley's mouth, lights flashing. Nathan's enhanced reflexes processed the situation instantly: too fast to stop, no room to turn. With fluid grace, he launched himself from the Harley, letting the bike crash while he vaulted over the police cruiser in a display of inhuman athleticism.

His boots hit pavement at a run, plunging into rush hour traffic. He accelerated to sixty miles per hour, weaving between cars and trucks, using hoods and roofs as springboards when needed. Horns blared and brakes squealed as drivers reacted to the blur of motion jumping across their vehicles. Behind him, he heard the pursuing motorcycle's tires screech as its rider managed to swerve and avoid both the crashed Harley and the police car, but the dense traffic made keeping up impossible now.

Nathan bounded from car to car, treating the gridlocked street like a deadly parkour course, his enhanced speed and reflexes letting him find paths no human could follow. Let them chase him now. Even if the bike could catch up, its rider would have to abandon the pursuit soon with all the police attention. Nathan allowed himself a grim smile as he ran, making plans to circle back eventually and find DeShawn. The night's entertainment wasn't quite over yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex's cybernetic fist slammed into the hood of the squad car, leaving a significant dent as he swore under his breath. He watched Nathan's form disappearing into traffic, leaping from vehicle to vehicle with inhuman grace.

"Damn it!" he growled, already maneuvering the Triumph into a tight turn away from the growing police presence. The bike responded perfectly to his enhanced reflexes, the massive engine purring as he slipped back into the alley and away from the scene.

"He got away," he reported tersely into his helmet comm, knowing Hazel and Rose were still monitoring. "Bastard's out there playing superhuman parkour through rush hour traffic. So much for keeping a low profile." The Triumph's engine growled as he accelerated, taking a circuitous route back to base. "And now we've got police involvement, crashed vehicles, and probably dozens of cellphone videos of him jumping over cars like some deranged action movie star."

Alex weaved the Triumph through back streets, the bike's sophisticated engine barely whispering compared to the police sirens in the distance. His cybernetic hand's servos were still whirring from the impact with the squad car, matching his agitation.

"Hazel, give me a clear route back," he said into the helmet comm. "And tell me you at least managed to track where DeShawn went."

He leaned the bike into a series of turns that would lose any potential tails, the Rocket's handling proving its worth as he pushed it through maneuvers that would challenge lesser machines. The modified helmet's HUD showed him the route Hazel was plotting, avoiding major intersections and known traffic camera locations.

"One week," he muttered as he rode. The Triumph's engine hummed beneath him as he took another series of turns to ensure he wasn't followed. "All that work getting everyone back, getting them settled, trying to build something normal here..." He gunned the engine through a clear stretch of road. "And those two are acting like they never left the Concordance behind."

The modified helmet's HUD continued showing him Hazel's suggested route as he wove through the quieter sections of the city. Every turn took him further from the sirens, from the scene of Nathan's public display of superhuman abilities, from the mess they'd now have to somehow contain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End Chapter!

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