Chapter Text
The elevator rose silently through the Rocky Building, carrying Sara and Nyssa toward the top floors.
Neither of them spoke.
The smell of smoke still clung to Sara’s clothes. The images of the tax office—burned desks, lifeless bodies—refused to leave her mind.
Ten minutes.
Ten minutes earlier and maybe…
She pushed the thought away before it could settle.
The elevator doors opened onto the private corridor leading to Sara’s penthouse levels.
Nyssa followed her inside without question.
The living floors passed quickly—tasteful furniture, open spaces, windows that overlooked the city—but Sara didn’t slow down. She moved straight to the final elevator that led to the top floor.
Nyssa noticed the shift immediately.
The doors opened again.
The Nest revealed itself.
Computers lined the walls. Multiple screens glowed with live feeds from across Hub City. Maps, police scanners, encrypted systems, weapons racks, and the glass display where Sara’s Canary suit rested when she wasn’t wearing it.
A training area stretched across the far end of the room, reinforced flooring and steel frames meant to survive brutal combat practice.
Nyssa stepped inside slowly.
She didn’t speak, but her gaze moved carefully across everything.
Efficient. Organized. Deadly.
It reminded her of League war rooms—except warmer somehow. Less… oppressive.
She was impressed.
But now was not the time to say it.
Sara was already moving.
She pulled off her jacket and sat at the central computer console, fingers flying across the keyboard.
“Felicity’s system should have picked up chatter by now,” she muttered.
Nyssa approached quietly, watching the screens populate with news feeds, emergency reports, and police dispatch records.
Sara pulled up footage from the tax building explosion.
“Gas pipe,” she said grimly. “Mechanical ignition. Someone planned that down to the minute.”
Nyssa crossed her arms. “Cowardice.”
Before Sara could respond, one of the monitors flashed.
A new video had just been uploaded.
It was already spreading across the internet.
Sara clicked it open.
The screen filled with a man sitting against a black background. His face partially shadowed, his voice steady with conviction.
“My name does not matter,” the man said.
Sara’s eyes narrowed.
“I am the one responsible for today’s explosion.”
Nyssa’s jaw tightened.
The man continued calmly.
“The tax building represents corruption. Government corporations that bleed the people dry while minority communities suffer and starve.”
Sara leaned back slowly, disgust creeping across her face.
“This act was a message. The powerful will no longer hide behind their systems of oppression. I will bring justice where the government refuses to act.”
The video ended.
Silence filled the Nest.
Nyssa’s voice came first, cold and precise.
“He kills innocent people and calls it justice.”
Sara’s jaw clenched.
Nyssa shook her head. “It is dishonorable. If his intentions were truly righteous, he would place himself in danger and seek out the guilty directly.”
Sara nodded slowly. “Exactly.”
Her eyes burned as she looked again at the image of the tax building fire.
“But he didn’t,” she said. “He murdered office workers.”
Before they could say more, another news alert appeared.
Live press conference.
The Hub City Police Commissioner stood at the podium again.
Sara already knew she wouldn’t like what came next.
“The individual claiming responsibility for today’s bombing is believed to be operating in the same vigilante circles as the so-called Canary,” the Commissioner announced.
Sara froze.
Nyssa’s gaze snapped to her.
“They share a common ideology,” the Commissioner continued. “Lawless individuals who believe they are above the system.”
Sara slammed her hand against the desk.
“Are you kidding me?!”
The screens rattled from the impact.
Nyssa’s expression hardened.
“They accuse you.”
Sara stood abruptly, anger rolling off her in waves.
“I’m nothing like that psycho.”
She pointed toward the video on the screen.
“That guy murders civilians and calls it justice.”
Nyssa watched her carefully.
Sara’s voice dropped into something sharper, colder.
“And now the HCPD thinks they can lump us together because we both wear masks.”
Nyssa’s eyes darkened with understanding.
“They intend to turn the city against you.”
Sara nodded once.
“Yeah.”
She leaned over the keyboard again, fingers moving fast as she began digging through every digital trail the video might have left behind.
“But they just made one mistake.”
Nyssa tilted her head slightly.
Sara’s voice was quiet—but dangerous.
“They pissed me off.”
She glanced at the frozen image of the bomber on the screen.
“I’m going to find out exactly who this guy is.”
The Canary had been fighting criminals.
Now she was hunting a terrorist.
XXX
Night had settled over Hub City like a bruise.
Sara stood in the Nest, watching Nyssa finish fastening the final clasp of her new suit.
Deep violet armor caught the light in quiet angles, the fabric sleek and reinforced, built for silence and movement. The faceplate covered Nyssa’s nose and mouth, leaving only her eyes visible—dark, focused, deadly. Twin daggers rested at her waist, and the falchion hung across her back in a custom sheath.
Sara let out a low whistle.
“Merlin really outdid himself.”
Nyssa tilted her head slightly. “It is efficient.”
Sara grinned. “You look terrifying.”
Nyssa considered that.
“That was the intention.”
Sara reached for her own suit, the familiar black armor sliding into place like second skin. The blonde wig followed, transforming Sara Argent into something else entirely.
The Canary.
She checked the collapsible staff at her back and nodded toward the elevator.
“Let’s go hunting.”
XXX
The city was loud with nightlife and secrets.
Sara and Nyssa moved across rooftops and alleyways like shadows, descending occasionally into the darker parts of Hub City where people sold things that weren’t supposed to exist.
Bombs required components.
Components required suppliers.
And suppliers always talked—eventually.
The first arms dealer they found refused to speak.
Nyssa’s dagger resting lightly against his throat changed that attitude quickly.
“Please,” he whimpered. “I don’t deal with bombers!”
Sara leaned closer. “Then tell us who does.”
He didn’t know anything useful.
Nyssa knocked him unconscious anyway.
The second merchant tried to run.
Sara caught him before he made it halfway down the alley.
Still nothing.
The third black market contact laughed nervously and insisted explosives were “bad for business.”
Nyssa did not laugh back.
Hours passed.
The city grew quieter as the night deepened.
Finally, in a rusted warehouse near the docks, a fourth supplier cracked.
Sara pinned him against a crate while Nyssa stood behind him like death itself.
“Look,” the man stammered, sweat pouring down his face, “I didn’t know what he was building! I just sold the materials!”
Sara’s eyes hardened. “What materials?”
“Gas ignition trigger, timers, accelerant compounds… stuff like that.”
Nyssa’s voice cut through the air. “Describe him.”
The man swallowed. “Weird guy. Real weird.”
Sara leaned closer. “Define weird.”
“He kept talking like he was some kind of prophet or something. Said the city needed purification.”
Sara exchanged a look with Nyssa.
“Did he give a name?” Nyssa asked quietly.
The man nodded nervously.
“Yeah… he called himself…”
He hesitated, trying to remember.
“…Liber.”
Nyssa went still.
Sara noticed immediately. “You know it.”
Nyssa nodded slowly.
“Liber is a figure in Roman mythology,” she said. “A symbol of freedom from oppression. Liberation.”
Sara scoffed. “That tracks. Guy thinks he’s some kind of revolutionary.”
Nyssa’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“The myth speaks of freeing people from tyranny,” she said. “But it does not praise the sacrifice of innocents.”
Sara released the trembling merchant with a shove.
“This guy isn’t liberating anyone.”
Nyssa finished the thought.
“He is hiding behind mythology to justify murder.”
Sara stepped back into the shadows, mind already racing.
“Liber,” she muttered. “Great. Now we’ve got a name.”
XXX
By the time they left the warehouse, the sky was beginning to lighten.
Early morning gray crept across the horizon.
Sara checked the time and groaned softly.
“Damn it.”
Nyssa looked at her.
“Sara?”
Sara rubbed the back of her neck.
“I’ve got to get Sin ready for school.”
Nyssa blinked.
“You leave combat operations for this?”
Sara smirked. “Welcome to my life.”
Nyssa considered this seriously, then nodded.
“It is honorable.”
Sara snorted. “Tell that to a teenager who hates mornings.”
They stopped at the edge of a rooftop overlooking the waking city.
“For now,” Sara said, “we split up.”
Nyssa inclined her head.
“I will continue listening in the shadows.”
Sara smiled faintly.
“Try not to stab anyone unnecessarily.”
Nyssa’s eyes glinted.
“I make no promises.”
Sara grappled toward the Rocky Building, disappearing across the skyline as the sun finally broke over Hub City.
The hunt for Liber had begun.
And somewhere in the city, the man who thought himself a symbol of liberation was preparing his next message.
XXX
Sara slipped quietly into the penthouse just as the first real sunlight began spilling across the skyline of Hub City.
The door closed behind her with a soft click, sealing out the distant sounds of traffic and sirens.
For a moment, she just stood there.
The night’s weight still clung to her—smoke from the tax building, the name Liber, the knowledge that someone out there believed mass murder was justice.
She exhaled slowly and ran a hand through her hair.
“Later,” she murmured to herself.
First things first.
Sara headed down the hall to her room and changed quickly, peeling out of the Canary suit and stepping back into the life of Sara Argent. Jeans. A simple shirt. Bare feet against the polished floor.
The transformation always felt strange—like stepping out of one skin and into another.
Once she finished, she walked quietly to Sin’s room.
The door creaked open just enough for Sara to peek inside.
Sin was still asleep.
Curled beneath her blanket, hair a mess against the pillow, breathing slow and peaceful.
Blissfully unaware of the darkness that crawled through Hub City every night.
Sara leaned against the doorframe, watching her little sister for a moment.
Sin’s face softened in sleep, younger somehow, the stubborn teenage attitude gone for a few quiet minutes.
The sight filled Sara’s chest with warmth so strong it almost hurt.
My little bird.
She let Sin sleep a few minutes longer.
Sara turned away and headed to the kitchen.
The coffee machine whirred to life with a comforting sound.
Breakfast, however, required creativity.
Because neither of them could cook.
At all.
Sara opened the pantry and surveyed their options like a general planning a campaign.
Pop-tarts.
Cereal.
Fruit.
“Perfect,” she said to herself.
By the time the coffee was ready, the counter looked like the world’s most chaotic breakfast buffet. Bowls, milk, a toaster working overtime, and a bowl of sliced fruit that looked slightly uneven but still edible.
Sara took a sip of coffee and sighed in satisfaction.
Then she walked back down the hall.
“Rise and shine, little bird.”
Sin groaned immediately from beneath the blankets.
“Go away.”
Sara leaned against the door. “School.”
Sin’s voice was muffled by a pillow. “School is a government conspiracy designed to ruin my life.”
Sara laughed. “Get up.”
Sin slowly sat up, hair sticking out in every direction, eyes half open.
She glared at Sara like waking up was a personal betrayal.
“You’re enjoying this,” Sin accused.
“Oh, absolutely.”
Sin dragged herself out of bed like gravity had doubled overnight.
The sisters moved through their routine—Sin complaining about existence while brushing her teeth, Sara drinking coffee and pretending she hadn’t spent the entire night chasing bomb leads.
Eventually they ended up at the kitchen counter.
Sin eyed the breakfast spread skeptically.
“Wow,” she said flatly. “A culinary masterpiece.”
Sara shrugged. “Pop-tarts are a classic.”
Sin grabbed one anyway.
“Fair.”
A few minutes later they were out the door.
The drive to Edgewood High was filled with the usual small talk—school gossip, Riley and Maya, complaints about homework.
Sara listened with half a smile, grateful for the normalcy.
When they pulled up outside the school, Sin grabbed her bag and paused before stepping out.
“Try not to start a war today,” she said casually.
Sara raised an eyebrow. “I’ll do my best.”
Sin smirked and hopped out of the car, disappearing into the flow of students heading inside.
Sara watched her go for a moment.
Just to make sure she got through the doors safely.
Then she started the car again.
Next stop: the museum.
Sara Argent had a job to do.
XXX
The museum was quiet in the way old buildings always were—soft footsteps on polished floors, murmured conversations between patrons, the distant echo of guides explaining centuries-old paintings to small groups of tourists.
Sara Argent stood near one of the new exhibits, listening politely as another curator discussed lighting adjustments for an upcoming gala piece.
She nodded in the right places.
Asked the right questions.
Looked every bit the composed art curator.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She glanced down.
BREAKING NEWS ALERT
Sara opened it.
Her stomach dropped.
Explosion reported at Hub City Courthouse. Casualties expected.
For a moment, the world seemed to tilt.
The courthouse.
Sara’s pulse spiked as she pulled up the live news feed on her phone beneath the edge of the display table.
Smoke poured from the steps of the building. Emergency vehicles crowded the street. People were screaming, running, being carried away on stretchers.
Dozens of victims.
Sara’s jaw tightened.
“Ms. Argent?”
She blinked, lifting her gaze to the coworker standing beside her.
“Sorry,” Sara said smoothly. “Just checking a notification.”
Inside, fury burned like a wildfire.
A few minutes later the video appeared.
Just like before.
The same man.
The same black background.
Liber.
“My message grows stronger,” he said calmly in the video. “Today I strike against a corrupt justice system that protects the powerful while crushing the powerless.”
Sara’s grip tightened around her phone.
“The courts are nothing but a shield for the wealthy. A puppet for government corruption. The people must take justice back.”
The video ended.
Sara slid the phone into her pocket slowly.
Her expression remained calm. Professional.
Inside, she was practically vibrating with rage.
He was escalating.
Tax office.
Courthouse.
Dozens more dead.
And he was smiling about it.
Sara finished the rest of her shift with the same composure she always showed—reviewing art shipments, answering emails, discussing exhibit arrangements.
No one saw the storm building behind her eyes.
XXX
By the time the museum closed, Hub City was buzzing with panic.
Sara grabbed her keys and left immediately.
No matter how bad the city got…
Sin came first.
Always.
She pulled up outside Edgewood High just as students were pouring out of the building.
Sin spotted the car and climbed in quickly, dropping her bag at her feet.
The first thing she said was:
“Did you see the news?”
Sara kept her voice steady. “Yeah.”
“The courthouse.” Sin shook her head, still stunned. “Everyone at school was talking about it.”
Sara hated that.
Hated that Sin had to hear about things like this.
But there was no hiding it.
The entire city knew now.
Sin turned toward her in the passenger seat.
“Are you going to get this guy?”
Sara’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
“Yes.”
The word came out sharp. Certain.
Sin watched her. “When?”
Sara glanced at her sister, then back at the road.
“After.”
Sin frowned. “After what?”
Sara said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“After I drop you off at home. Make sure you’ve done your homework. And had dinner.”
Sin stared at her.
“Wait… what?”
“The city is on fire,” Sin continued, baffled. “There’s a bomber running around and you’re worried about homework and food?”
Sara looked at her then—really looked at her.
Her voice softened but the conviction in it didn’t.
“You’re my priority.”
Sin blinked.
Sara continued quietly.
“Nothing comes before that.”
The sincerity in her voice hit harder than any lecture ever could.
Sin looked away quickly, cheeks flushing red.
She wasn’t used to that kind of fierce love being said out loud.
Sara smiled faintly.
“I’ll stop him,” she said gently.
She reached over and ruffled Sin’s hair.
“I promise, little bird.”
Sin muttered something under her breath, trying to hide the way her face had gone pink.
But Sara had already seen it.
And the promise still hung in the air.
XXX
Dinner had come and gone.
The dishes were rinsed, the kitchen quiet again, and Sin sat cross-legged on the couch finishing the last few lines of her homework while Sara paced the living room with the quiet restlessness of someone preparing for war.
Sin glanced up as Sara finished tying her boots.
“You’re going out again.”
Sara grabbed her jacket. “Yeah.”
Sin closed her notebook slowly. “To deal with the bomber.”
Sara didn’t answer immediately.
She walked over and squeezed Sin’s shoulder gently.
“Lock the doors. Don’t stay up too late.”
Sin rolled her eyes. “You’re the one sneaking out in the middle of the night.”
Sara smirked.
“Occupational hazard.”
Sin stood, crossing her arms.
“Just… be careful.”
Sara softened at that.
“I always am.”
She winked.
Then stepped onto the balcony.
A second later she vaulted over the railing and disappeared into the night.
XXX
The courthouse still smelled like smoke.
Police tape fluttered in the wind, and memorial candles had already begun gathering along the steps.
Families lingered nearby—people clutching photos, whispering prayers, crying quietly under the yellow glow of streetlights.
Sara landed silently on the roof across the street.
Nyssa stood on the edge of the building, watching everything below.
She hadn’t moved in minutes.
Sara approached quietly.
Nyssa spoke without turning.
“They grieve,” she said softly.
Her voice held something dark.
“Children without fathers. Spouses without partners. Parents burying their sons.”
Sara followed her gaze.
Nyssa’s hands tightened slowly into fists.
“I have seen death,” Nyssa continued. “But this…”
Her voice hardened.
“This is slaughter disguised as righteousness.”
Sara nodded grimly.
When Nyssa finally sensed her presence fully, she turned.
“I have something,” Nyssa said.
Sara perked up immediately. “Yeah?”
Nyssa nodded.
“There is a night class at the city library.”
Sara raised an eyebrow.
“They study Roman mythology extensively,” Nyssa continued. “Three nights each week.”
Sara’s mind started connecting the dots instantly.
“And tonight is one of those nights,” she finished.
Nyssa inclined her head.
Sara exhaled slowly. “That’s promising… but it’s also a problem.”
Nyssa tilted her head. “Explain.”
Sara leaned against the ledge.
“A classroom full of mythology nerds. We walk in and half of them probably love the idea of rebellion against corrupt governments.”
Nyssa frowned slightly.
“And we have no idea if this guy built a contingency plan in case he was ever exposed.”
Nyssa’s expression sharpened.
“What do we do?”
Sara smiled faintly.
“We send in a Trojan horse.”
Nyssa blinked.
“That is not how the Trojan horse works in the story of Troy.”
Sara waved a hand dismissively. “It’s how it works in Star Wars.”
Nyssa stared at her.
“…There are multiple wars among the stars?”
Sara froze.
Then slowly covered her face with her hand.
“You’ve never seen Star Wars.”
Nyssa looked utterly serious. “I do not understand why stars would fight wars.”
Sara groaned.
“Okay. We are fixing that later.”
Nyssa looked more confused than before.
Sara sighed and dropped her hand.
“Never mind. Let’s just go.”
XXX
The city library was still open, the soft glow of reading lamps visible through tall windows.
Sara and Nyssa entered quietly.
Students gathered in a classroom near the back—maybe fifteen people sitting in a loose semicircle while an older professor discussed Roman mythology.
Sara slipped into the back row beside Nyssa.
Then the real work began.
Sara watched faces.
Microexpressions.
Posture.
Who leaned forward when rebellion was mentioned.
Who stiffened when the professor talked about corruption.
Who looked angry instead of curious.
Nyssa listened to the discussion with a scholar’s attention.
Every time a student spoke, she evaluated their knowledge.
Who truly understood the myths.
Who twisted them.
Who misinterpreted justice.
The professor said casually:
“Liber represented freedom from oppression. A symbol of rebellion against tyranny.”
A man in the third row leaned forward immediately.
“But the state always twists justice,” he argued passionately. “The system protects itself. True liberation requires sacrifice.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Nyssa’s gaze flicked to him.
The professor responded calmly. “The myth does not support the killing of innocents.”
The man scoffed quietly.
“Innocence is subjective.”
Sara and Nyssa exchanged a look.
Bingo.
Sara leaned slightly toward Nyssa and whispered.
“That’s our guy.”
Nyssa nodded once.
Cold certainty settled over her eyes.
They had found Liber.
And tonight…
The hunt was about to end.
XXX
The library closed quietly.
Students drifted out in small groups, laughing softly, discussing assignments, making plans for the weekend.
Among them walked the man who called himself Liber.
Sara and Nyssa followed from the shadows.
Both now dressed for the night.
Sara’s black Canary suit blended perfectly with the darkness of Hub City’s rooftops. Nyssa’s violet armor moved beside her like a phantom blade, the faint glow of the city reflecting along the edges of her faceplate.
Below them, their suspect walked home.
He wasn’t what Sara expected.
No dramatic speeches.
No nervous paranoia.
No swagger.
Just a painfully ordinary man in a worn jacket carrying a backpack.
He walked like someone used to being invisible.
And yet he had murdered dozens of people.
Sara watched him carefully as they moved overhead.
“That’s him,” she murmured.
Nyssa’s voice was quiet and cold.
“Yes.”
XXX
The man eventually turned into one of the worst parts of Hub City.
Broken sidewalks.
Graffiti-stained walls.
Streetlights that flickered instead of shone.
He climbed the stairs of a rundown apartment complex and disappeared inside.
Sara and Nyssa waited on the roof across the street.
“Ordinary,” Sara muttered.
Nyssa nodded slowly.
“Monsters often are.”
They observed the building for another ten minutes.
Watching windows.
Entrances.
Potential escape routes.
Sara scanned the structure with a small device from her belt.
“No explosives wired to the walls,” she whispered. “No remote triggers.”
Nyssa studied the stairwell and fire escape.
“No guards. No alarms.”
Sara nodded.
“Alright.”
They moved.
XXX
The apartment door opened with barely a sound under Sara’s lockpick.
Inside smelled faintly of chemicals and dust.
They slipped into the dark like ghosts.
The living room was cluttered with books and papers.
Roman mythology texts stacked beside government reports and political manifestos.
At the far end of the apartment, a desk lamp illuminated the man they had followed.
He sat hunched over a workbench.
Wires.
Detonators.
Gas triggers.
Another bomb in progress.
Sara moved first.
Silent.
The man never saw her until the moment her hand slammed into the back of his chair.
CRACK.
The chair splintered beneath him.
He hit the floor with a startled cry.
Before he could move, Sara’s boot pressed down onto his chest, pinning him flat.
Nyssa stepped forward, daggers already drawn.
The man stared up at them in absolute terror.
“You—! The—!”
“The Canary,” Sara finished coldly.
Nyssa’s voice was lethal.
“Your life ends tonight.”
Her dagger lifted.
Sara raised a hand slightly.
“Wait.”
Nyssa paused but didn’t lower the blade.
Sara looked down at the trembling man.
“Why?”
He blinked rapidly, fear shifting slowly into anger.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Sara pressed harder with her boot.
“Try me.”
The man laughed bitterly.
“You think this city works for people like me?”
Sara said nothing.
The words poured out of him now, years of resentment boiling over.
“I worked for the Department of Infrastructure for twelve years,” he spat. “Public records analyst.”
Sara’s brow furrowed slightly.
He continued.
“I found evidence of tax fraud. Millions siphoned from minority neighborhoods that were supposed to receive development funding.”
Nyssa’s eyes narrowed.
“I reported it.”
His voice grew sharper.
“They fired me. Blacklisted me. Said I falsified records.”
Sara listened quietly.
“My wife believed them,” he continued bitterly. “Left with our son. Took everything.”
He laughed again, hollow and broken.
“They destroyed my life. And the courts protected them.”
Sara’s voice remained steady.
“So you started killing office workers?”
His eyes burned with fanatical conviction.
“They work for the system!”
Nyssa’s grip tightened on her dagger.
“They are not innocent.”
Sara’s jaw hardened.
“You’re not sticking it to the government,” she said quietly.
“You’re murdering civilians.”
He shook his head violently.
“Innocence is a lie. Anyone who serves the system is guilty.”
Sara stared at him for a long moment.
Then she sighed softly.
“He’s too far gone.”
Nyssa nodded once.
Sara’s fist came down fast.
The man went limp instantly.
XXX
An hour later, a battered van sat outside the front steps of HCPD headquarters.
Inside the back:
The unconscious bomber.
Boxes of explosive materials.
His entire workshop worth of evidence.
Sara shut the van door.
Nyssa watched her carefully.
“You did not kill him.”
Sara leaned against the vehicle.
“No.”
Nyssa tilted her head slightly.
“Why?”
Sara’s eyes moved toward the police building.
“Men like that,” she said quietly, “want to be martyrs.”
Nyssa listened.
“If I killed him,” Sara continued, “people like him would turn him into a symbol.”
She pushed away from the van.
“But now he’s just a criminal sitting in a jail cell.”
Nyssa considered that carefully.
“A forgotten one.”
Sara nodded.
“Exactly.”
They disappeared into the night as police sirens approached the building.
Liber’s revolution had ended.
Not with glory.
But with handcuffs.
XXX
The morning news played softly in the background as sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the penthouse.
Sara sat on the couch with a mug of coffee, watching the screen with a calm expression that hid a quiet sense of irritation.
The Hub City Police Commissioner stood at a podium again, flanked by uniformed officers who looked very pleased with themselves.
“After tireless investigative work by the Hub City Police Department,” the Commissioner declared proudly, “the individual responsible for the recent bombing attacks has been apprehended.”
Sara scoffed under her breath.
“Tireless,” she muttered.
The Commissioner continued, “This dangerous extremist will now face the full weight of justice thanks to the bravery and dedication of our officers.”
Sara took another sip of coffee, unimpressed.
The front door of the penthouse hallway creaked open.
Sin shuffled into the living room looking like a teenager who had declared war on mornings.
Her hair was messy, and she was wearing an oversized hoodie that made her look even smaller than usual.
She glanced at the TV.
Then immediately rolled her eyes.
“Seriously?”
Sara smirked slightly.
Sin dropped into the chair across from her.
“They’re taking credit for that?” she scoffed. “And the Canary is still a criminal?”
Sara shrugged lightly.
“As long as the city’s safe, I don’t really care who gets the credit.”
Sin snorted. “You should. It’s annoying.”
Sara smiled faintly at the protective edge in her voice.
“Speaking of annoying,” Sara said casually, setting her coffee down, “we’re having a guest for dinner tonight.”
Sin blinked.
“You’re what?”
Sara leaned back.
“A guest.”
Sin stared at her like she’d just announced aliens were landing.
“You’re inviting someone over?”
Sara rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
Sin leaned forward suspiciously. “Who?”
Sara hesitated just long enough to be noticeable.
“Her name’s Nyssa,” she said finally. “She’s… a friend.”
Sin noticed immediately.
The almost nervous look in Sara’s eyes.
Like she wanted Sin to approve.
The realization made a sly smile creep onto the teenager’s face.
“Friend,” Sin repeated slowly.
Sara narrowed her eyes slightly.
Sin leaned back with a knowing expression.
“Is Nyssa your girlfriend?”
Sara smiled.
But didn’t answer.
Sin’s grin widened.
“Oh my God she is.”
Sara shook her head, amused.
“We’ll see.”
Sin tapped her chin thoughtfully.
“Well,” she said casually, “I’ll meet her.”
Sara raised an eyebrow.
“But,” Sin added with mock seriousness, “I’m giving her the shovel talk.”
Sara blinked.
Then burst out laughing.
The mental image of Nyssa—deadly assassin of the League—being threatened by a sixteen-year-old with a metaphorical shovel was too good.
“Oh I cannot wait to see that,” Sara said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
Sin smirked proudly.
XXX
Later that morning, Sara dropped Sin off at Edgewood High like usual.
“Remember,” Sin called as she climbed out of the car, “I’m watching her.”
Sara laughed. “Be nice.”
“No promises.”
Sara watched her disappear into the school building before driving away.
Her next stop was a small café downtown.
Nyssa was already there.
She sat near the window, posture perfectly composed, watching the world outside with quiet curiosity.
Sara slid into the chair across from her.
“Morning.”
Nyssa’s eyes warmed immediately.
“Sara.”
Sara smiled faintly.
“I have an invitation for you.”
Nyssa tilted her head slightly.
“Dinner tonight,” Sara said. “At my place.”
Nyssa blinked once.
“Why?”
Sara took a sip of her coffee.
“Because you’re meeting Sin.”
Nyssa went still.
For a moment, the deadly warrior looked almost nervous.
Then she inclined her head.
“I would be honored.”
Sara smiled softly.
“She’s… protective.”
Nyssa’s voice was calm.
“As she should be.”
Sara leaned forward slightly.
“She’s my whole world right now.”
Nyssa nodded slowly.
“I know.”
Sara held her gaze.
“If we’re going to have any kind of chance… I need to know that it won’t affect her negatively.”
Nyssa’s voice softened.
“I understand.”
She paused before adding quietly,
“I will do my best to earn her approval… so that one day you may trust me enough to be with me again.”
Sara’s heart tightened slightly at the sincerity in her voice.
“Just don’t put pressure on her to like you,” Sara said gently.
Nyssa nodded immediately.
“I would never.”
Sara leaned back in her chair.
“Good.”
Nyssa allowed herself a small smile.
“Then I look forward to meeting your little bird tonight.”
Sara smiled back.
Tonight was going to be… interesting.
XXX
Sara Argent had faced assassins, criminals, and entire armies without blinking.
But tonight?
Tonight she was nervous.
She paced the penthouse for what had to be the tenth time, adjusting things that didn’t need adjusting.
The couch cushions were already perfect.
The table was already clean.
The floor had definitely been cleaned twice.
Sin sat on the couch, watching her with narrowed eyes.
“You’ve circled the room six times,” Sin said casually.
Sara stopped mid-step. “No, I haven’t.”
“You have.”
Sara crossed her arms. “I’m just making sure everything’s ready.”
Sin smirked but didn’t push.
She could see it.
The tension.
The way Sara kept glancing at the door.
Her big sister—who literally jumped off buildings for fun—was nervous about dinner.
Sin didn’t say anything else.
But she noticed.
XXX
Eventually, dinner was set.
Or rather—placed.
Big Belly Burger bags sat proudly on the table, filling the room with the unmistakable smell of grease and comfort food.
Sara looked at it and nodded once.
“Perfect.”
Sin grabbed fries immediately. “Agreed.”
The doorbell rang.
Both sisters froze for half a second.
Sara straightened quickly.
“Act normal,” she muttered.
Sin raised an eyebrow. “You mean you act normal.”
Sara shot her a look before heading to the door.
She opened it.
Nyssa stood there.
Composed. Elegant. Dressed in her civilian clothes, but still carrying that quiet intensity with her.
Her eyes softened slightly when they landed on Sara.
“Sara.”
“Hey,” Sara said, stepping aside. “Come in.”
Nyssa entered the penthouse—and immediately stopped.
Her nose twitched slightly.
She turned slowly toward the dining table.
Her expression shifted.
Horror.
“That smell…” she said carefully.
Sara winced internally.
Nyssa stepped closer, examining the bags like they were evidence of a crime.
“You intend to eat this?”
Sara cleared her throat. “It’s dinner.”
Nyssa looked personally offended.
“This is not food,” she said flatly. “This is a glorified oil monstrosity.”
Sin snorted loudly.
“Good luck with that,” she said, gesturing between herself and Sara. “We’re both kitchen hazards.”
Sara nodded. “Confirmed.”
Nyssa turned to them slowly.
“No.”
Sara blinked.
“No?”
Nyssa’s voice was firm.
“I will not allow this.”
Sin leaned forward, intrigued. “Allow what?”
“This,” Nyssa said, gesturing at the food like it had insulted her ancestors. “You will eat properly.”
Sara groaned. “Nyssa…”
But Nyssa had already decided.
“We are going to the market.”
Sara blinked again. “Right now?”
“Yes.”
Sin perked up. “Wait, seriously?”
Nyssa nodded once.
Sara sighed, rubbing her face.
She knew that tone.
Nyssa was not budging.
Not even a little.
Sara pointed toward the table weakly. “We already bought food…”
Nyssa didn’t even look at it.
“We are leaving.”
Sin looked at Sara, amused.
“Oh, I like her.”
Sara groaned.
XXX
Ten minutes later, Sara was driving.
Because of course she was.
Nyssa sat in the passenger seat, calm and victorious.
Sin sat in the back, watching this entire situation unfold like it was the best entertainment she’d had all week.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Sara muttered.
Nyssa replied calmly, “You will thank me.”
“I already don’t,” Sara shot back.
Sin laughed.
XXX
The supermarket doors slid open.
Nyssa stepped inside like she was on a mission.
Sara and Sin followed behind her more reluctantly.
What happened next was… efficient.
Terrifyingly efficient.
Nyssa moved through the aisles with precision.
Vegetables.
Lean proteins.
Grains.
Everything selected quickly, deliberately, without hesitation.
Sin blinked in shock.
“Whoa,” she whispered. “She’s fast.”
Sara didn’t even react.
“Yeah,” she said dryly. “You get used to it.”
Nyssa returned moments later with a full basket.
“Done,” she said simply.
Sin stared. “That was like… five minutes.”
Nyssa tilted her head. “Was that slow?”
Sin shook her head. “No, that was terrifying.”
Sara grabbed the basket. “Let’s just go before she decides we need a farm too.”
Nyssa ignored that.
XXX
Soon they were back in the car, groceries in the back seat.
Sara started the engine with a resigned sigh.
Sin leaned forward slightly, smiling.
“So,” she said casually, “does she always take over like this?”
Sara smirked faintly.
“Yeah.”
Nyssa glanced at them both, calm as ever.
“It is necessary.”
Sara shook her head, but there was no real annoyance behind it.
Just something lighter.
Warmer.
For the first time in a long time, the penthouse didn’t feel like a fortress.
It felt like a home.
And dinner?
Dinner was about to become an experience.
XXX
The moment they stepped back into the penthouse, Nyssa took control.
Not aggressively.
Not loudly.
But with the quiet certainty of someone who had already decided how things were going to go.
“Kitchen,” she said simply.
Sara gestured lazily. “Be my guest.”
Nyssa moved immediately.
Groceries were unpacked with efficiency. Ingredients sorted. Tools selected.
And then—
She started cooking.
XXX
Sara leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching.
She didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t impressed.
Nyssa moved through the kitchen like it was second nature.
Precise cuts.
Measured seasoning.
Controlled heat.
No hesitation. No wasted motion.
It was… kind of mesmerizing.
Sin stood beside Sara, eyes wide.
“…Okay,” she whispered. “She’s kinda awesome.”
Sara smirked. “Told you.”
Nyssa didn’t look up as she spoke.
“Cooking is discipline. It requires attention, balance, and respect for the process.”
Sara rolled her eyes immediately.
“Of course it does.”
Sin grinned.
“I like her already.”
Nyssa glanced at Sin briefly.
“You are Sin.”
Sin blinked. “Uh… yeah?”
Nyssa nodded once.
“Sara speaks of you often.”
Sara froze.
Sin’s eyes lit up instantly.
“Oh really?” she said, turning slowly toward her sister.
Sara cleared her throat. “Okay, let’s not—”
Nyssa continued calmly.
“She says you are stubborn.”
Sin smirked. “Accurate.”
“And that you are reckless.”
Sin tilted her head. “Debatable.”
“And that you are the most important person in her life.”
Silence.
Sara looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.
Sin’s expression softened for just a second before she covered it with a grin.
“Okay,” she said. “I definitely like her.”
Sara groaned. “Nyssa…”
Nyssa looked genuinely confused.
“I have said something incorrect?”
Sara rubbed her face. “No. You just… don’t filter.”
Nyssa considered that. “Why would I?”
Sin laughed.
“This is great.”
XXX
The cooking continued, conversation weaving in and out between chopping and stirring.
Sin asked questions.
Lots of questions.
“So where are you from?”
“Why do you talk like that?”
“Do you always sound like you’re narrating a documentary?”
Nyssa answered every single one.
Honestly.
“I was raised in a structured environment.”
“This is how I speak.”
“I do not know what a documentary is.”
Sara snorted at that.
“Yeah, we’ve got some catching up to do.”
Sin leaned on the counter, studying Nyssa.
“You’re weird.”
Nyssa nodded. “Yes.”
Sin grinned.
“I respect that.”
XXX
Before long, the penthouse filled with a scent it had never known before.
Real food.
Warm. Rich. Inviting.
Home.
Sara blinked slightly, taking it in.
This place had always been functional. Safe.
But this?
This was different.
Nyssa plated the food with the same care she used to prepare it.
“Dinner is ready,” she said.
Sara and Sin moved to the table.
And immediately—
Sara froze.
“…Wow.”
Sin didn’t even try to hide it.
“Okay, I’m starving.”
Nyssa crossed her arms slightly, watching them with quiet satisfaction.
Sara picked up her fork.
Took a bite.
And immediately closed her eyes.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “That’s… really good.”
Sin was already halfway through her plate.
“This is amazing,” she mumbled between bites.
Nyssa allowed herself a small, smug expression.
Sara pointed at her with her fork.
“Don’t get used to that look.”
Nyssa’s lips curved faintly.
“I was told this was not possible in this household.”
Sara sighed. “It wasn’t.”
Sin nodded enthusiastically. “You’re hired.”
Nyssa tilted her head. “For what?”
“Life,” Sin said simply.
Sara choked on her drink.
“Okay—no—let’s slow down.”
Sin grinned.
Nyssa, meanwhile, looked thoughtful.
“I will consider it.”
Sara stared at her.
“You are not helping.”
XXX
Dinner continued with laughter, teasing, and the kind of easy conversation Sara hadn’t realized she’d been missing.
Nyssa might not understand pop culture.
She might be socially… unconventional.
But she could cook.
And more importantly—
She was trying.
And that meant everything.
Sara leaned back in her chair, watching the two most important people in her life sit across from each other.
For the first time in a long time, everything felt… right.
XXX
Dinner ended with full plates and lighter hearts.
For a while, the penthouse felt warm in a way it never had before—voices lingering, laughter echoing faintly even as the dishes were cleared and washed.
Sara dried the last plate and set it aside, glancing over her shoulder at Sin.
“Alright,” she said, slipping back into big-sister mode. “Bed. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
Sin leaned against the counter, arms crossed, that familiar mischievous smirk already forming.
“Wow,” she said. “Kicking me out already?”
Sara narrowed her eyes. “Don’t start.”
Sin pushed off the counter, grinning wider.
“Fine, fine. I’ll go.”
She paused at the hallway, then turned back, eyes flicking between Sara and Nyssa with exaggerated suspicion.
“Just… don’t do anything I’m not allowed to do.”
Sara blinked.
Sin added sweetly, “Don’t worry though—I’ll wear headphones tonight.”
It took exactly one second for Sara’s brain to catch up.
“…Oh my God.”
Her face went red instantly.
She grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at Sin.
“Go to bed!”
Sin laughed as she dodged it effortlessly.
“Goodnight!”
Her door slammed shut a moment later, laughter still echoing faintly down the hall.
Sara stood there, mortified.
Slowly, she turned back.
Nyssa was watching her, calm as ever.
“…What just happened?” Nyssa asked.
Sara froze.
Then cleared her throat quickly.
“Nothing.”
Nyssa tilted her head slightly.
Sara shook her head. “Teenager stuff. You don’t want to know.”
Nyssa accepted that without further question.
Sara exhaled quietly in relief.
Thank God.
XXX
The penthouse settled into silence again.
Sara leaned against the counter, glancing toward Nyssa with a small, genuine smile.
“Thanks,” she said.
Nyssa’s gaze softened. “For what?”
“For dinner. And… for getting along with her.”
Nyssa stepped a little closer.
“It was easy,” she said simply.
Sara raised an eyebrow.
Nyssa continued, her voice calm but sincere.
“Sin is a remarkable young woman.”
Sara’s expression softened immediately.
Nyssa met her eyes.
“I understand why you love her so much.”
Something in Sara’s chest tightened.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “She’s… everything.”
Nyssa nodded once.
“I can see why.”
XXX
At the door, the moment lingered.
Nyssa stood just inside the threshold, the city lights behind her casting a soft glow around her silhouette.
“Goodnight, Sara,” she said gently.
Sara nodded. “Goodnight.”
Nyssa hesitated—just for a fraction of a second.
Then she stepped forward.
And kissed her.
It wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t hesitant.
It was deliberate. Deep. Familiar in a way that sent a quiet shock through Sara’s entire body.
Sara inhaled sharply against her, fingers tightening slightly at Nyssa’s coat.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
Then Nyssa pulled back.
Sara blinked, breath uneven.
“Why did you do that?” she asked softly.
Nyssa’s expression was steady.
“You already have my heart,” she said.
Sara’s breath caught.
Nyssa’s voice softened just slightly.
“I am willing to wait… until you can trust me with yours.”
Sara stared at her.
Completely undone for a second.
Then Nyssa stepped back, giving her space.
“Goodnight, beloved.”
And she left.
Sara stood there long after the door closed.
Her mind was spinning.
Her heart was racing.
And her face was still warm.
“…Damn,” she muttered under her breath.
She ran a hand through her hair, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Deep in thought.
And maybe—
just maybe—
a little turned on.
“Damn sexy assassin,” she whispered to herself.