1.23 – At the Convention

The Hermes International Conference and Convention Center in Seaside City was hosting the event again this year. The Center was an utterly massive hive of halls and sub-venues, but even with so much capacity, it was still barely able to contain all the fans—many of whom were just as avid as Leona. At the very least, they were all people with a great interest in the ‘Cape and Cowl’ culture.

There were tons of cosplayers attending, each dressed like their favorite heroes or, once in a while, a villain. While the fans each had varying levels of interest in different aspects of the culture, each year they came together to enjoy each other’s company, even if it was just for a small slice of their lives.

Sarah and Leona proudly walked into the main atrium. Sarah wore a cute cat hoodie over the very same white kitty-covered swimsuit she’d worn to the water park. To complete the look, she donned a domino mask that matched the white skirt that she wore over the suit. She found some tiger-striped leg warmers to pull over the boots she had on.

On the other hand, Leona had put together a decent Mistral costume and was rocking it. Quinn had colored her hair a brighter blonde with spray and sent her with plenty of backup spray bottles for touch-ups. Gaining such a bright-colored hair meant potential damage to her strands, particularly if one wanted such pure white hair that Mistral sported, but Leona wasn’t concerned.

She just wanted to show her love and appreciation for her favorite heroine, putting all her passion into a homemade approximation. Leona’s mostly color-matched spandex suit did its job to emulate her favorite Weather Witch of the North’s current look. She had gathered all the pieces herself—except for the accurate hair color, of course. All in all, she was proud of her costume. When Sarah saw her wearing it for the first time, she barely recognized her.

As they approached the kiosks where tickets were checked and lanyards assigned, the hum of excited voices filled the air. Suddenly, a passerby caught sight of Leona and shouted enthusiastically, “Oh damn! You’ve got a great Mistral look! I LOVE it!” His energy was palpable as he rushed forward, clasping Leona’s hand in a firm shake.

Sarah glanced uncertainly at Leona, unsure how to react, but Leona didn’t miss a beat. She straightened her posture, pride swelling in her chest. With a confident smile, she shook the man’s hand and stepped back, striking a poised pose.

“Keep rocking that look!” the man said, grinning.

Leona’s tone was cool and composed—exactly how she imagined Mistral would sound. She put on airs, channeling the heroine’s calm authority as she said, flipping her hair, “Certainly, I will.”

Sarah giggled and impishly hopped next to Leona, striking a pose of her own with her ‘paws’ up. “And I’m Misstroll’s sidekick for the event, the Nyavenger!” Sarah cried.

It was hard for Leona to not fall over with how cute Sarah was. People who were around to witness the moment laughed and applauded, and the cameraman literally got a bloody nose.

After a series of shots taken together, changing postures a few times in between, they excused themselves and moved on. Whatever ice or anxiety the two felt standing between them and the event—or other fans—had melted. Everyone was bubbly, and Leona decided that this convention experience was far more than she’d hoped for.

Leona was among the happiest of all until she spotted a costume that was far better than her own. She nearly fell to pieces, gawking at how authentic it looked. Leona froze, thinking almost that she was looking at the genuine article. To make the situation worse, that outstanding cosplayer looked Leona’s way and walked right up to her. Her eyes were steely like the real Mistral’s, and her cloak fluttered as she closed the distance between them. The few people she had to walk around moved respectfully aside, perhaps thinking the same.

Dozens of self-deprecating thoughts flashed through Leona’s mind just before the woman seized her hand and said, “Your costume is great!”

The better-than-Leona Mistral stunned Leona by saying that, despite surely knowing her costume was superior.

After chatting a bit and parting ways amiably, Leona glowed and practically flew from panel to panel as they worked their way through the rest of the convention.

Sarah and Leona stuck together, much of the time holding hands, and once in a while, they stopped to take pictures with other ‘superheroes,’ forming faux Society of Sentinels groups. To the two’s delight, they got enough cred that event organizers approached them and asked if they’d like to be in the costume contest later that afternoon. Leona declined, knowing she’d certainly lose if the other ‘Mistral’ competed, and Sarah agreed with Leona’s decision since she wasn’t as serious about the hero stuff, though she took pride in her cosplay craft.

From that point on, Leona occasionally ran ahead of Sarah to do a few things she wanted to do, and Sarah did likewise, not resenting that their interests didn’t always coincide. When seminars came up in the schedule, they reconvened and attended them together, like “Superhero morality in the modern world” and a crafting seminar discussing how to create realistic costume components out of everyday materials. That one was kind of like a sci-fi-materials-on-a-budget class, given how crazy advanced superhero costumes had become in recent years.

Though she didn’t play the game, Leona also visited a meet-and-greet for Banners of the Bold players for Sarah since there wasn’t a more appealing event running at the same time. Shortly after their arrival on the scene, the nerd boys congregated around them in a little too high a concentration for comfort. The two quickly agreed using meaningful glances—ones that said there were more fun places to hang out.

After they slipped away from the crowd, Leona glanced at Sarah, her heart racing with a sudden idea. “Hey, I need to check something real quick in the dealers’ room,” she said casually, hoping to sound nonchalant. “Meet you at the Clocktower café?”

Sarah tilted her head, grinning, aware of Leona’s clumsy effort to mask her intention. “Sure! I’ll grab us a table.”

Once Sarah headed off, Leona darted into the maze of booths. Her eyes scanned the tables until she found a small stall selling Banners of the Bold merchandise. She picked up a small, beautifully detailed miniature of Sarah’s favorite in-game character, a fierce warrior with feline armor, the perfect nod to Sarah’s playful “Nyavenger” persona. Leona paid quickly, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and had it wrapped in delicate tissue paper to keep it safe.

Following a brief detour through the shop stands, they split for a short time again before meeting up at the Clocktower café set up on the lower level after browsing the dealer’s room merchandise, buying a few must-haves.

Carrying something around the size and shape of a softball wrapped in newspaper, Sarah grinned at Leona with a kitty smile. “I got Misstroll her gift too!” she purred, holding it out just far enough that she could snatch it back if Leona reached for it.

Leona’s lips twisted. “It’s Mistral, you foolish feline. Not ‘Ms. Troll,’ BAKA!” Leona laughed aloud, realizing she hadn’t really thought about how Sarah had pronounced the name until this moment.

“Awww, you wound me, Leona—” Sarah smiled playfully. “I’ll give this gift to you after the convention—maybe,” she teased and took another cat-like pose, one hand on her hip and the other out with her gift, clenched like a paw. “But for now, let’s go into the café nyow!” She winked.

Leona laughed, the small wrapped gift tucked away safely in her bag, already imagining Sarah’s reaction when she gave it to her later.

Using the “Gamma” clearance associated with their passes, they started seeing events and panels come up that were exclusive, amazing perks for holders of those tickets.

The first was another meet-and-greet, this time showcasing civilians who had worked directly with heroes in the past. The couple happily shook the panelists’ hands, got their autographs, and posed for pictures, enjoying the camaraderie and shared enthusiasm that filled the room. Sarah beamed with excitement, her hand occasionally slipping into Leona’s, a gentle reminder of their closeness amid the crowd.

Leona, however, was eagerly anticipating an event scheduled for the second day of the convention. The long wait meant they had to find ways to pass the time, so the pair couch-surfed through the night at the convention center, attending a marathon of darker-edged fan films.

As the lights dimmed in the makeshift theater, Sarah curled up across a set of chairs pushed together, using her hoodie as a makeshift pillow. She drifted off quickly, her breathing soft and steady, while Leona sat upright, eyes locked on the screen.

The first of the late-night features was a fan-made yuri animation involving the heroines Trinity and Redline Racer. The animation was surprisingly well-crafted, with lush visuals and tender moments that drew the audience into its emotional undercurrents. Yet, it took a sudden, explicit turn, causing Leona’s face to flush as she shifted uncomfortably, steaming hot, in her seat. She had to keep a bag firmly in her lap to hide her natural reaction.

When the next feature began—a yaoi special featuring Vanguard and Midnight Avenger—Leona tensed. She was already uneasy, but when they reproduced a certain infamous two guys and a cup scene, her discomfort hit a peak. Leona’s eyes widened, her hands gripping the edge of her seat, and before she could stop herself, she fled from the room. Oh shit… Leona wondered if she’d ever be able to look at these two Sentinels quite the same.

Outside the theater, she leaned against the wall, trying to steady her breathing. Her mind raced with thoughts. It’s not like I’m against a relationship between them… It’s not that! But why did it have to be so graphic?  The scene replayed in her head, making her wince. She decided that she was probably scarred for life. She glanced back toward the door, hoping Sarah wouldn’t wake up and see what was airing and run out too. It was probably a blessing that she was so pooped.

Leona certainly wasn’t homophobic—far from it—but the fetish featured in the film just wasn’t her thing. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what Sarah would think if she had seen it. Would she be just as shocked? Or would she take it in stride like so many of the other women in the room, who had been so visibly heated below the collar? Their reactions were baffling to Leona, leaving her feeling a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

She wiped her clammy hands on her thighs, then peeked back into the theater. Sarah was still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what Leona had witnessed. When credits were rolling, Leona slunk back to her seat, relieved. She gently patted Sarah’s lustrous light brown tresses, giggling softly. She sure had dodged a bullet there.

The next day at the convention was the final day of the convention. Although their hearts were heavy, knowing that the fun would soon come to a close, it went very well.

This time, Leona and Sarah spent nearly every second together. Their special Gamma clearance passes allowed them to access to a variety of exclusive activities that Leona had eagerly anticipated after scouring the event schedule beforehand.

One highlight was a brief flight around Seaside City in an older model of the Sentinel Wing, parked in a roped-off lawn outside. The sleek, matte-black aerospace transport vehicle, once used by The Sentinels, had been retired and was donated to a museum. Now, through special arrangements, it graced the convention, offering rides from the fenced rooftop garden. As they strapped in, Sarah squealed with delight, gripping Leona’s hand tightly as the ship lifted off the ground, giving them a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

The next and final major event, aside from the obligatory closing ceremony, was lunch with active superheroes following a handshake session with Bombshell and Dragonmage. A highly rated restaurant catered the group’s meal, setting a grand table that made the attendees feel like honorary members of the Society of Sentinels.

Bombshell’s larger-than-life personality filled the room, her presence a whirlwind of energy that made the entire space feel brighter. She stood tall, hands on her hips, her golden curls spilling over her shoulders like a lion’s mane, the metallic accents on her suit gleaming under the overhead lights.

“Alright, folks, who’s ready to meet some heroes?” she boomed, her voice ringing out like a cheerleader leading a winning team. The crowd responded with cheers and applause, the energy infectious as Bombshell grinned widely. “That’s what I like to hear!” she laughed, the sound echoing like fireworks, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Leona exchanged an excited glance with Sarah, who giggled. “She’s like a living display of fireworks, larger than life!” Sarah whispered.

“Yeah,” Leona agreed, her heart racing with anticipation.

“Okay, listen up!” one of the staff members announced, waving a clipboard as they stepped forward. “Now we’ll be splitting into two lines. If you want to meet Dragonmage, line up on the left. Bombshell’s line will be on the right. Choose wisely, people!”

There was a brief moment of indecision as the crowd began to shuffle into place, and Bombshell waved her hands dramatically. “Hey, hey, no need to stress! You can’t make a wrong choice, but, uh—” she leaned forward conspiratorially, showing off her impressive chest, her voice lowering to a mock whisper, “I give better hugs.”

The crowd laughed, and Leona found herself grinning uncontrollably as she and Sarah stepped into Dragonmage’s line. Bombshell caught sight of them, pointed, and winked. “We’ll see if you’re right about that choice later!” she called with a playful grin.

“Bombshell is everything I hoped she’d be,” Sarah whispered as they shuffled forward, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

Leona glanced at the next line over where Bombshell was wrapping her arms around an eager fan, pulling them into a bear hug that made the fan’s face turn beet red. “Why aren’t you in her line, if you’re so into her?” Leona asked, eyeing the display with a raised eyebrow. A part of her felt a small pang of regret. Bombshell’s line looked wild, fun, and just a little dangerous. Leona would probably have had a hard time hiding her reaction.

Sarah’s face flushed deep crimson as she watched Bombshell press up against another fan, whispering something in their ear that made them giggle nervously. “I… uh… I guess I wasn’t ready for that,” she admitted, her voice trembling with embarrassment. “Besides, mystics… appeal more,” she added, stumbling over her words as her eyes darted away.

Leona smirked, leaning in closer, her voice low and teasing. “You sure? Looks like you wouldn’t mind being one of those lucky fans.”

Sarah laughed, swatting at Leona’s arm playfully but still looking flustered. “Shut up,” she mumbled, though her eyes kept flickering back to Bombshell.

Leona chuckled softly. “Gotcha,” she said, her smile widening.

Dragonmage, in contrast, was quiet and reserved, offering cryptic musings about fate to those who shook his hand, perfectly in line with his reputation. He stood with an air of detachment, his dark robes adding to his enigmatic presence, while Bombshell practically radiated energy beside him.

Each Sentinel had a unique reputation that made them as much celebrities as protectors. Vanguard was the Society’s compassionate father figure, known for his relentless optimism and dedication to saving even villains when possible. The Midnight Avenger, cold and calculating, instilled fear in the underworld with his relentless pursuit of justice. Bulwark, with his fully metallic body, was a living testament to perseverance, having fought for recognition as a human being despite being born a machine. Redline Racer, the fastest woman on Earth, had a razor-sharp wit that rivaled her speed, while Privateer was the lovable rogue whose irreverent humor often pushed boundaries even among the Sentinels.

When it was Leona’s turn to shake Dragonmage’s hand, she approached him soberly, hoping to draw more than his usual half-mumbled greetings. She knew him well by reputation. Their hands clasped, and to her surprise, his distant gaze sharpened.

“An interesting aura dances around you, child,” he said, his voice low but resonant. “You should consider seeking proper mystic tutelage after completing your formal education.”

Leona was stunned. She had watched him greet others, barely acknowledging their presence, his eyes distant, his words few. Yet now he was addressing her with an unexpected depth. His words echoed in her mind, leaving her awe-struck. Did he really see something in me?

When Sarah’s turn came, Dragonmage’s demeanor shifted back to his usual aloofness, his handshake brief, his gaze distant once again. Sarah didn’t seem to notice, grinning broadly, though she barely knew the man.

Leona couldn’t help but glance back at him as they moved to Bombshell’s line. His words still echoed in her mind—cryptic, mysterious, and heavy with meaning she couldn’t quite grasp. There was a part of her that wanted to turn around, find him again, and dig deeper. What had he really meant by that comment about her aura? The temptation was strong, but she didn’t want to miss her chance to meet Bombshell.

Thankfully, there was a bit of time left before it was her turn, but Leona couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, something important was slipping away just out of her reach. She hoped, maybe foolishly, that she wouldn’t get hugged. The very idea of Bombshell wrapping her arms around her was enough to make her stomach do a nervous flip. Although she could handle it, she told herself, the prospect still made her anxious about how she’d react.

She glanced back at Dragonmage one more time, wondering if she should just turn around and ask him more about what he saw. But before she could make up her mind, her thoughts were interrupted by a firm grip on her hand. Bombshell’s vibrant laughter snapped her back to reality, and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled forward, closer and closer to the unstoppable force that was Bombshell herself.

“I can see your encounter with ‘Mr. SeesItAll’ was a little overwhelming,” Bombshell teased, shaking Leona’s hand firmly.

Leona chuckled, still processing Dragonmage’s words. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Bombshell grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Don’t let him spook you too much, kid. He’s got that whole ‘cryptic wizard’ thing down, but deep down, he’s just as human as the rest of us—well, mostly.”

Leona laughed, the tension easing. “Thanks, Bombshell.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Bombshell replied, giving her a wink before turning to the next attendee.

With a dropped jaw, Leona nodded her head automatically. Although Bombshell wasn’t known for her perceptiveness, she’d practically read Leona’s mind! The sheer confidence in her voice was enough to make Leona feel a bit exposed, though the thought that this woman, this larger-than-life figure, had noticed her so easily stirred something inside her.

Bombshell cupped a hand over her mouth and glanced Dragonmage’s way as she confidently whispered, “You know, I only take what he says seriously when we’re working together.” She shook her head with a wry grin and fixed Leona with her eyes. “Not so much when he’s muttering and laying things on thick for the fans. Just have some fun and forget whatever doom and gloom he mumbled at you.”

Leona blinked, her stomach doing a flip. This fan had at least read enough online about the mage that no one should take Dragonmage’s pronouncements lightly. Leona was completely positive that he had said nothing like this to anyone else here. His expression never changed much. It was all so... strange, but strangely exhilarating. She felt a little lighter at Bombshell’s words, though a strange sense of foreboding still lingered. Was this the kind of advice only Bombshell could give—straightforward, unapologetic, and, somehow, comforting?

The sound of clinking silverware in the background broke her thoughts as they moved toward the next room. The handshaking portion of the panel had finished, and the caterers were rolling in carts, distributing plates of food. Leona found herself glancing over the various dishes but didn’t feel much hunger. Her mind was still buzzing from the earlier encounter. People were conversing lightly among themselves, but the scene had a surreal quality.

Bombshell, with her uncontainable energy, took the brunt of all the questions asked of the two, dominating the conversation with ease. Her laughter rang out like bells as she joked with the fans, making them feel at home. Leona watched her in awe, taking mental notes of how effortlessly she commanded attention.

But halfway through, Dragonmage became more animated again. His gaze shifted toward something far away, his brow furrowing in concentration. It was subtle, but enough for Leona to notice. His intense focus seemed almost otherworldly. Then, in an instant, he mysteriously disappeared from the table with a soft mutter about “a black malevolence...”

Leona couldn’t help but be momentarily frozen. What was that about? She glanced around the room, trying to gauge anyone else’s reaction. No one seemed too startled. It was as if they were all expecting it. A few chuckles and murmurs rippled through the crowd. It was clearly a planned part of the meet-and-greet event, a spectacle for the fans.

But Bombshell didn’t just let it be. She immediately leaned in, speaking warmly to the crowd, her voice dripping with casual charm. “Sorry about that, everyone. He probably got psychically called to the ‘Vampires from Dimension X Panel’ or something,” she quipped, waggling her fingers and playfully explaining away the disappearance. The crowd roared with laughter, and the atmosphere lightened once more, but Leona’s mouth crinkled slightly. Something about that felt... off. While she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, she sensed there was more to it than just a joke.

Still, Dragonmage was gone, off to take care of whatever mysterious business had called him away, so it should be fine. Right? Leona tried to brush off the nagging feeling.

With the final panel wrapping up, the closing ceremony began, featuring a special video made by the Society of Sentinels to greet and thank the attendees for their support. It was a heartwarming moment, but Leona felt it too—an end to something bigger, something she’d only just tasted.

The ceremony also featured a thrilling demonstration of the heroes’ abilities, and the crowd erupted in excitement one last time. Leona felt herself swept up in the energy, her heart pounding as the heroes showcased their incredible powers. She couldn't believe it. They’d actually met these heroes. REAL superheroes.

While Bombshell heaved bricks into the air and punched them into dust, her movements so fluid and effortless that it seemed like an extension of her own energy, the crowd’s cheers echoed through the hall. Her laughter, as always, was infectious, and the air crackled with her relentless enthusiasm. She smashed each brick with a powerful punch, sending very small particles of dust flying in every direction.

Meanwhile, Dragonmage, ever the enigma, stood a few paces away, his hands weaving through the air as though manipulating unseen threads. His eyes were closed in concentration, lips muttering incantations under his breath, barely audible above the excitement. Slowly, a rippling light appeared in the air before him, forming a portal.

The first one revealed a scene of serene white wilderness—deep snow stretched out for miles, the kind of desolate beauty that only the harshest corners of the world could offer. The crowd gasped as the chill of the scene seemed to seep through the portal, though it was only an illusion. For a moment, Leona swore she could feel a drop in temperature as if the magic was seeping into the atmosphere.

Before the crowd could fully absorb the icy landscape, Dragonmage gestured with a flick of his hand, and another portal opened beside it. This time, the majestic pyramids of Egypt stood framed in the swirling light. The sun cast long shadows over the golden stones, and Leona’s breath caught as she imagined standing in the shadow of one of the wonders of the ancient world. She could almost feel the dry heat of the desert, though she knew it was just a glimpse.

With barely a pause, Dragonmage opened another portal, this one showing a bird’s-eye view of the Great Wall of China. The Great Wall stretched endlessly, winding across the mountains, a testament to ancient human endeavor. The scope of it was almost overwhelming, and Leona couldn’t help but be drawn into the grandeur of the sight.

But that wasn’t enough. The final portal Dragonmage conjured was unlike anything the crowd could have expected, it looked different with a faint extra glow. With a soft, mysterious smile, he raised both hands to the sky, and the air around him shimmered. Slowly, the last portal materialized—a flawless window opening up onto the surface of the moon. Through it, the crowd glimpsed scattered craters dotting the moon's barren surface, the fine dust gleaming under the soft light. The stillness was palpable, the cold serenity of the glowing terrain stretching endlessly. Above, the sky was a deep, infinite black, the stars twinkling like distant diamonds

Leona’s eyes widened as she took in the sight. Although she had seen the moon from Earth a thousand times, this… this was amazing. She could see every crater, every shadow, as if she were standing on the moon herself. And then, as if to seal the surreal experience.

Leona couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pure white moonscape, feeling a strange sensation—a mix of wonder and deep, unspoken awe. She knew this was something that few ever got to experience. And in the next instant, Dragonmage closed the portal, and the whole room seemed to exhale together, as if waking from a shared dream.

Bombshell was still beaming, crushing more bricks into dust, but it was clear that Dragonmage’s display had left the biggest impression on everyone in the room. The air seemed heavier with the weight of their collective awe. Even Bombshell’s energy, though unmatched, couldn’t quite compare to the cosmic power they’d just witnessed.

And then they attended the solemn closing ceremony, where panelists shared their thoughts and reflections on the success of this year’s Justicon. Although the speeches were heartfelt, Leona found it difficult to focus. Her mind kept drifting back to Dragonmage’s cryptic advice—his suggestion that she seek tutelage to harness some latent talent he’d sensed in her. Could she actually develop some kind of power? Could she become a hero herself someday, with enough hard work? The thought lingered in the back of her mind, distracting her from the ceremony around her.

As the event drew to a close, the crowd began to thin. Half of the attendees were fighting back tears, reluctant to leave, while the other half buzzed with excitement, still riding the high of everything they had just experienced. Leona and Sarah made their way through the crowd, dodging groups of people heading to parked vehicles or hurrying to catch buses and taxis.

They waited for a bit, standing near the convention exit, when a familiar flamingo-pink convertible pulled up. The top was down as usual, and Quinn was practically standing in the driving seat, shouting across the lot, “Hey you two! How’d it go? Have fun?”

Leona could barely contain herself. “HECK YES!” she grinned broadly, practically hopping into the car. “WE MET REAL HEROES! UWAAAAA!” The excitement spilled out of her in a torrent, her hands animated as she spoke. “I can't even believe it—real, actual heroes!” Leona was practically foaming at the mouth in her excitement, her voice rising with every word.

Quinn and Sarah laughed, their shared amusement at Leona’s uncontainable joy infectious. But Sarah, still smiling, shifted in her seat, her tone turning slightly more serious. “It was amazing, really… Way cooler than I thought it would be! Oh!” She blinked, her mischievous expression returning as she looked over at Leona. “Your gift, before I forget it—it’s here in my bag. I’d have taken it home if I hadn’t repeated it a million times in my head before we left the convention, ‘Don’t forget to give Leona her gift—don’t... DON’T!’”

Leona raised an eyebrow at Sarah’s teasing, her pulse quickening slightly. Her heart thudded in her chest. What was this gift? The thought of it sent a surge of curiosity running through her. What had Sarah gotten for her?

She laughed as she fished out the newspaper-wrapped object from her bag and handed it to Leona with a warm smile. In return, Leona enveloped Sarah in the tightest of hugs, the kind that spoke volumes without words.

After a moment, remembering her own gift for Sarah, Leona carefully handed her the figurine wrapped tightly in a secure bag. She had made sure to keep it hidden, not wanting Sarah to get a peek before the right moment.

Sarah's eyes lit up when Leona handed her the wrapped figurine. She carefully untied the bag, her fingers trembling with excitement. When she revealed the small, intricately crafted piece, her smile widened, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"Oh my god, Leona, this is... it’s perfect! I love it so much. You know me too well. This will go right by my bedside tonight." She looked up at Leona with a look of joy, her voice soft and sincere.

Caught up in the moment, they cuddled together in the quiet privacy of the car, their laughter and conversation flowing easily. The weight of the world felt miles away, just the two of them, enjoying the simple joy of being in each other’s company. But soon enough, the moment passed. They both stiffened as Sarah’s house came into view. Reality settled back in, and they broke apart reluctantly, making sure not to linger too long, lest her parents catch on to anything.

Sarah didn’t waste time. She slid over the side of the convertible with practiced ease and headed up to her house, throwing a quick wink and wave over her shoulder before disappearing inside.

Quinn revved the engine, backing out of the driveway. She didn’t waste a moment, knowing full well that Sarah’s parents might come looking for her and see them if they didn’t leave quickly. She pulled onto the highway, the speed picking up as the city began to fade in the rearview mirror.

With a grunt, Leona leapt from the top of the clutter bin between the front seats and landed in the passenger seat, settling herself comfortably.

Quinn shot her a sly, wry grin. “You should’ve copped a feel, ya know,” she teased. “So much platonic hugging, it’s cute. My backseat wasn’t intended for such saints. I mean, I’m sitting here watching you two act like a couple out of a Disney flick.”

Leona’s face flushed bright red, her heart skipping a beat. She fiddled nervously with the wrapping of Sarah’s gift, trying to distract herself. She peeled back the layers of newspaper, revealing a thick glass sphere inside.

It was strange—gray and fuzzy, its shape almost impossible to discern. Leona raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she was even looking at.

The object had a note of authenticity attached to it, but the more she examined it, the more she realized something wasn’t right.

Leona sighed heavily, blinking as her suspicions grew. “Sarah,” she muttered to herself, “you fell for it.”

It was immediately clear what had happened. Sarah had been taken by one of the many scams that ran rampant at conventions. Leona had seen the warnings on the forums: scammers selling fake ‘angel down’ feathers, marketed as rare and authentic artifacts. Leona had heard the talk about artists in Seaside City getting conned, selling ‘real’ hero artifacts to hopeful fans, but this one felt particularly off.

Leona rubbed her temples, trying to push down the frustration. She knew that shady dealers would flood convention floors during big events, especially when there was a desperate demand for anything connected to angelic heroes. The scams were practically a given. Leona wasn’t about to point fingers at Seaside City; crooks were everywhere. But she couldn’t deny the disappointment of seeing yet another scam bubble to the surface.

Leona grimaced, her fingers tracing the edges of the odd object. The more she thought about it, the clearer it became. Someone had gone through the trouble of smuggling in fake feathers and passing them off as something valuable. Angelic feathers were incredibly prized, especially among the religious communities who would pay a small fortune for a ‘real’ one.

The superhero forums had been buzzing about this very issue ever since she met Sarah. Leona wondered how much Sarah had wasted on this garbage—how much she had fallen for it.

“Damn,” Leona muttered under her breath, the weight of the situation settling in.