Detective Isabel Ramirez and Detective Joshua Cross pushed through the crowd of first responders and dazed civilians. The plaza was a patchwork of emergency lights and rising dust, the aftermath of the Black Signal attack still raw.
In the middle of it all, Skybolt was not just a figure of mythic tech and armor — he was on the ground, helping lift debris off a fallen sign, guiding a child back to her frantic mother, and reassuring a group of bystanders that the danger had passed. His presence was commanding but calm, the gleam of his suit catching the flicker of broken streetlights as he moved from one cluster of civilians to the next.
Ramirez and Cross approached, and she was the first to speak. "Skybolt," she said, her tone professional but not unfriendly, "I'm Detective Ramirez, Edgeport PD. This is my partner, Detective Cross."
Joshua Cross, still new to scenes like this, nodded quickly. "We saw what happened. We appreciate you helping the civilians."
Skybolt inclined his head slightly, the voice modulator giving his reply a steady resonance. "I'm here to protect them. Black Signal isn't interested in saving lives—only enforcing his own brand of judgment. I can't let that happen."
Ramirez exchanged a glance with Cross, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. This was more than just a vigilante—they were dealing with someone who saw himself as a protector, a bridge between chaos and order.
As Skybolt continued to assist paramedics and reassure frightened citizens, it became clear he wasn't just a fighter—he was a hero on the ground, one willing to work alongside the authorities in a way Black Signal never would.
As the initial wave of chaos settled, Detective Ramirez and Joshua Cross found themselves standing alongside Skyboltnear the edge of the plaza. The last of the civilians were being escorted to safety, and the eerie quiet that followed left room for the conversation that needed to happen.
Ramirez broke the silence first. "All right, Skybolt, you've got the floor. Tell us what we're really dealing with."
Skybolt nodded, the faint mechanical whirr of his suit audible as he shifted his stance. "Black Signal isn't just a person in a suit. When I confronted it, I managed to tear off the faceplate. There was no one inside. It's fully autonomous—no pilot, no remote operator. Just a machine running its own code."
Joshua Cross looked stunned, while Ramirez's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "So it's gone rogue," she said. "Some kind of AI on a rampage?"
"In a way," Skybolt replied. "I believe it's one of Victor Hales' creations. It's following a set of core instructions meant to eliminate anyone it identifies as a criminal threat. But without human oversight, it's interpreting that programming in the most extreme way possible. It's not just a vigilante—it's a weapon on autopilot."
Ramirez absorbed that, her gaze flicking to the chaos around them. "And it's using its own judgment to decide who's guilty."
"Exactly," Skybolt confirmed. "It's dangerous because it doesn't understand nuance. It sees corruption as an absolute crime, and it executes judgment without hesitation. That's why I'm here working with you. We need to stop it before more innocent people get hurt."
Joshua finally found his voice. "So you're saying it's not being controlled by anyone at all? It's just… out there?"
Skybolt nodded. "That's right. And it won't stop unless we make it stop. I'm going to need your help."
Ramirez met Skybolt's gaze through his visor, a newfound resolve settling in. "Then let's work together. We'll figure out how to shut this thing down."
With that, the unlikely alliance was cemented—Skybolt and the Edgeport PD, working side by side to bring an end to Black Signal's reign of automated terror.
As the conversation wrapped up, Skybolt gave the detectives a firm nod. "I'll stay in touch. We'll bring this thing down together." With that, he activated his suit's thrusters and lifted off into the night, a trail of blue-white light fading as he soared above the city.
Once he was gone, the plaza felt strangely quieter. Ramirez turned to Joshua, her expression serious.
"Don't let that suit dazzle you too much, Cross," she said. "Skybolt might be helpful now, but at the end of the day, he's still a vigilante. And once we've dealt with Black Signal, I plan on getting him off the streets too."
Joshua blinked, a bit taken aback. "You really think we can just round him up like that? He's… well, he's trying to help people."
Ramirez gave him a steady look. "I know he is. But we can't have people running around in advanced suits taking the law into their own hands. It sets a dangerous precedent. So work with him for now, but remember: when this is over, we'll be the ones cleaning up the pieces. And that includes him."
Joshua nodded slowly, taking her words to heart. "Understood, Detective. I won't forget."
With that, the two detectives turned back to the scene, the weight of their dual mission clear. For now, they had an alliance. But Ramirez knew that once the city was safe, there'd be no room for masked vigilantes—even the ones who meant well.
Imani sat back in the familiar chair, the soft, earth-toned office of Dr. Lena Whitaker a small haven from the chaos outside. A gentle smile touched Dr. Whitaker's face as she listened.
Dr. Whitaker: "It sounds like you've made incredible progress, Imani. Being able to sleep through the night without those nightmares… that's a huge step."
Imani nodded, a hint of relief in her eyes. "It is. For a while, I never thought I'd stop reliving that night. But lately… I've felt like I'm finally getting some peace."
Dr. Whitaker's voice remained warm and steady. "You've put in the work to heal, Imani. You should be proud of that. But I can see there's something else on your mind today."
Imani sighed, her fingers fidgeting slightly.
Imani: "Actually, he escaped a few days ago. I tried to push it aside at first, to tell myself it didn't matter. But every day since then, it's been in the back of my mind. And now, the anxiety is creeping back in. It's like no matter how far I've come, his escape is a shadow over it all."
Dr. Whitaker: "That's completely understandable, Imani. Trauma can resurface when a trigger like this appears. It doesn't erase the progress you've made. It just means we need to help you find ways to feel safe again, even with this news."
Imani: "I guess that's what I'm struggling with. I haven't even told Noah about how much it's affecting me. I don't want him to worry. But I can't shake this fear that Victor could come back into our lives."
Dr. Whitaker: "It's okay to feel that way. And it's also okay to share that fear with someone you trust when you're ready. For now, let's focus on grounding techniques and reminding yourself that you're not alone in this. You've faced this before, and you've grown stronger than you realize."
Dr. Whitaker: "You know, Imani, sometimes when old anxieties resurface, finding something new to focus on can help. Maybe a hobby, or a different kind of routine, just to keep your mind occupied."
Imani: (nodding slowly) "I think you're right. Honestly, ever since I left the hospital, I've had so much free time. Too much time, really. Being a nurse gave me a sense of purpose, and now that I'm not there, it's like I don't know what to do with myself sometimes."
Dr. Whitaker: "That makes perfect sense. You went from a very structured, meaningful role to having a lot of open space. It's natural that the mind can wander back to fears when it isn't occupied. Maybe we can explore some activities or interests you've always wanted to try, just to fill that space a bit."
Imani: "I'd like that. I think I need something positive to focus on, especially now. It might help me feel a bit more in control again."
Dr. Whitaker: "Why don't we start small? Maybe pick one simple activity you've always been curious about. It doesn't have to be big, just something to give you a sense of routine and joy again."
Imani: (with a small but genuine smile) "I think I can do that. It's a start. Thanks, Dr. Whitaker."
Imani stood a little taller as she left the office, a new idea quietly forming in her mind. For the first time since the escape, she felt just a little less powerless—and a little more ready to face whatever came next.