“So... it wasn’t magic, then?” Touchdown looked down at the corpse of the old man, “because I’m not seeing a clear cause of death, and a sudden heart attack would be awfully convenient for Musclemancer.”
Veronica Griddy, aka Touchdown, sounded gruff and looked tired. Her blonde hair, held up in a simple ponytail, was frazzled, her cybernetic arm had started to squeak and the signature scarlet varsity jacket she wore over her blue spandex bodysuit could use a wash. She’d been on the trail of lesser magic-using villain Pablo Lucci, the Musclemancer, for a while now, ever since his mark showed up on a murderous gargoyle that attacked her fellow cape, Silver Siren. The two of them had finally managed to get his last known location out of some henches-for-hire, but the only things they found were a brownish-red circle comprised of strange symbols on the floor and the dead body of an elderly man in a bathrobe, looking to be a relative of Pablo’s. With no other clues, Silver had suggested they call in one of the backliners.
“No, no, there was certainly magic involved,“ said the girl in the broad-rimmed hat, “just not a spell, at least one hasn’t been used on this poor gentleman.” Her voice was soft, and she spoke at a volume a little too low for the room, as if she was prone to forgetting that her words weren’t just for herself.
“Mind elaborating on that? “ said Silver Siren, coming in from the next room carrying a stack of papers and placing them onto a pile on a nearby table.
Astra got up started leafing through the stack, pointedly staring at the pages of mundane household accounting as she replied “Spells are the most common form taken by the magic wrought by humans on this plane, but not the only one. He could have been assaulted by an innately magical being, say, a fae or daemonic creature. There are also objects of magical origin that can kill without leaving wounds.” She put down the stack and shook her head apologetically. “Nothing yet. I’m sorry, Miss Siren.”
“Please, just call me Silver. Or Sylvia.” Silver paused in the doorway to the other room and gave the goth girl her best warm smile. “And don’t apologise, Astra. You’re doing great for someone unused to field work. I’ll keep hauling paper, gives me something to do around here.”
“So a magic weapon or some kind of monster, ‘s that right?” asked Touchdown, scratching her nose with her mechanical arm, “do you figure it has anything to do with that spooky circle?”
“It is a translocation circle, true enough.” Astra pulled a finger through the circle and smelled it. “It’s been used, and it bears Musclemancer’s sigil. Theoretically, it could have been used to perform a summoning, but...” she pursed her dark purple lips. “You said there were reports of him entering this house, but nothing about him leaving, right?”
“That’s right,“ Touchdown nodded, “why do you-“ she paused, looked over at the circle and then turned to Astra, “wait, you mean instead of bringing some monster in here, he used it to teleport himself out? Can you use these things like that?”

Astra smiled. “Well intuited. You’re smarter than you lo-” She stopped abruptly and raised her hands, turning towards Touchdown, “I’m sorry! That came across rude! Your brand happens to lean into the jock archetype and that’s commonly associated with- but I recognise that doesn’t mean that you yourself are-“
Touchdown rolled her eyes, then sighed and waved it off. “It’s cool. I get that all the time, just don’t do it again.”
Silver walked back into the room carrying another stack of binders and folders, putting them down for Astra to peruse. She traced a trimmed black fingernail over the pages as she flipped through them, her irises shifting from grey to periwinkle to orchid as she focused them on the mana spectrum.
“So, sounds like you’re building up a bit of a theory?” asked Silver, who had picked up her unplugged guitar from its resting place against a nearby bookshelf and started to tune it.
“Well... there’s nothing conclusive,” Astra said, putting down one map on the improvised “out” pile on the table and picking up another one from the stack Silver had brought in, “but we know that Musclemancer entered this house not too long ago...”
“Probably stayed over with a relative, our John Doe has Musclemancer’s eyes and nose,” Touchdown said, taking a water bottle out of her duffle bag and leaning against the wall. “I’ll call one of the folks back at mission control to confirm that, my phone died when I was gathering intel, so not right now, but I can get to them later.”
“Right,“ said Astra, nodding, “now, the man died without visible trauma. We’ve ruled out spells as the murder weapon, but confirmed that magic was involved. I can’t confirm what exactly that means, but magic weapons or extraplanar allies are both possibilities.”
“He did send those two gargoyles, if what you said about the rune was right,“ said Silver, “but trust me, those things leave wounds,“ she said, pointedly tapping the bandages on her upper left arm.
Astra almost kept herself from wincing at the thought as she nodded. “Finally, there is the matter of the translocation circle,“ she said, “We believe it was something of an emergency exit.”
“Like a teleporter,“ Touchdown added before taking another sip of water.
“I see...” said Silver, thoughtfully. “Can you tell where it leads, Astra?”
“Hmm... I can tell what the coordinate sigils are, but I’d need my tomes to turn those numbers into a location.” Astra sighed and plucked at a ribbon in her corset, “as it stands, I can’t even guarantee you it leads to somewhere on Earth.”
“I don’t know if we’ll have time for that... we could be hot on Musclemancer’s heels here,” said Touchdown.
“Is there anything else you can do?” asked Silver, “I remember you talked to a corpse, once, maybe you could just ask the deceased for some clues.”
“I could,“ said Astra, going back to the pile of household papers, “But I’d need several hours to coax the spell into my brain, a memento of the deceased, a meditation circle and a lily grown on a widow’s grave. And the dead are notoriously cryptic.”
“Damn...” said Touchdown,“ are all witches this demanding?”
“I’m not a- “ Astra started, annoyed, pinching the bridge of her nose before shaking her head and lowering her voice again, “Sorry, miss Touchdown. But no. Magic is not that simple. Well, except when it is, I suppose, it’s a complicated matter and-“ she stopped, fishing a small book out of the pile and holding it up, a smile blooming on her painted lips. “Found it!”
“You found... a household account book?” asked Touchdown, raising an eyebrow.
“No! Well... yes, strictly speaking, but- this is the contract!” Astra’s stare was fixed on the little thing as she flipped through it, her eyes turning a bright and vibrant amethyst.
“Is this why you had me haul all of those papers?” asked Silver, leaning on the table full of folders and files.
“Looks like a pretty normal book to me,“ said Touchdown, putting her gloved organic hand up to her chin, “am I missing something here?”
“As a matter of fact, you are!” said Astra, still smiling, “It’s a common trick among magic users: simply imbue a clear liquid with a modicum of one’s own mana and it is possible to produce an ink that is clearly visible on the mana spectrum while remaining almost perfectly hidden otherwise.”
“Is that so?” said Silver “Just... magic invisible ink, huh? That’s almost cute.”
“It’s a simple precaution, and a common one. But one could hardly fault it for efficacy,” Astra flipped through the pages.
“You’re not wrong,“ Silver smiled, “and if we hadn’t had you here, it would have bought Musclemancer a lot of time.”
“So, what does it say?” asked Touchdown.
“Hmm... well, it’s written in a Daemonic script, so I can understand the gist... though I’m not too familiar with the dialect. Maybe if I had my Dictionarium Daemoniorum, I could-“
Astra’s mutterings were interrupted by Touchdown. “Let’s file that under ‘shit we don’t have time for right now,’ can you skim it and give us a summary?”
“Now there’s a common set of last words...” muttered Astra, “But I suppose...” she spent a minute leafing through the small book, whispering to herself in a language neither Silver nor Touchdown could understand, but which left both of them with a faint headache. Eventually, she flipped back and left it on a page that, to two-thirds of the people in the room, simply seemed to record the purchase of a couch, four years ago. Astra tapped the page for useless emphasis, “I think I’ve found the most relevant part. It says here that Pablo Denver Lucci has purchased the services of a dire gargoyle of the Fourth Circle, who was tasked with the assassination of one Sylvia Brace... I believe that’s you?”
Silver nodded. Behind her, Touchdown whispered “his middle name is Denver?”
“Sylvia... that’s a very pretty name...” Astra muttered, before scraping her throat and continuing “after which they were to act as bodyguards for him and some doctor called... Ignatius Darkmoon? Until ‘the project’ is completed.” She paused and flipped through a few pages. “It does not, at a glance, state what this project is. In exchange...” she read over a seemingly blank line in the account book several times, chewing her bottom lip, “he is to pay fifteen years of service.” She looked up at Silver, her eyes shifting back to their mundane grey tone. “Accepting those terms and subjecting himself to the contract’s power without clarification on the type of labour is a highly risky proposition. If he knows the first thing about daemonic contracting, he must have really wanted you dead to sign this.”
Silver raised an eyebrow, “really, now? That might actually give us a lead.”
“How’s that?” asked Touchdown.
“Darkmoon has been preparing for something. Some kind of cybernetics project, is all we know for the moment.”
“Actually- “ Astra raised a finger to speak up, but was interrupted by Silver. “I know magic doesn’t play nice with advanced technology, Astra. But Musclemancer is still an expert on anatomy, we can’t discount the possibility he was involved.”
Touchdown gritted her teeth and punched the wall, leaving a visible crack “that still doesn’t give us anything but long-term leads, damn it!” She turned her sky blue eyes on Astra, “We’re on a fresh trail here! Don’t you have anything that’d allow us to follow him? Find more information quickly?”
Astra had taken a step back, eyes wide, staring up at the taller, more athletic woman and lightly trembling as she clutched her arms together under her black half-cloak. “I- I’m sorry-“
“Look,“ said Silver, going back to her calming mentor voice, “I know we’re all a bit high-strung here, what with the constant work, being out of our comfort zone, the assassination attempt...“
“Yeah...” said Touchdown “I guess I let the stress get to me. You’ve been doing work here, witch girl. Maybe I should just ask around the neighbourhood and see if I can charge my phone, then we can call headquarters and see if-“
“Hang on...” said Astra, suddenly. “I might not be able to speed read this contract for every detail, but... Zathrael could.”
“Who?” asked Touchdown.
“My language buddy,“ said Astra, opening a satchel at her waist and producing a piece of chalk.
“A language buddy?” Touchdown said, confused.
“Calling her usually requires a ritual that...” she noticed the way one of Touchdown’s cleats was impatiently tapping on the floor, “...that I won’t bother you with the details of, but this circle is still fully set up. If I just change the sigil and coordinates, I should be able to work the spell with barely any preparations of my own. Just give me a minute.”
“Wait, are you planning to summon a...” Silver started.
“A daemon, yes,“ said Astra, making adjustments to the strange symbols in the circle. “I don’t usually do this outside of my office. It’s a shame we don’t have Meow Mx. around for luck...” she saw the highly worried looks Silver and Touchdown were fixing her with and quickly gave them a slightly-too-stiff little smile, “N-not to worry, though! We have an existing contract, there are strict limits on what she can do to me.”
“Are you sure we should let her do this?” Touchdown asked Silver as they watched Astra close her eyes and chant something in a strange, guttural-sounding tongue. “are we going to trust a demon after one of them just did that to you?” she said, pointing a metal finger at Silver’s bandaged shoulder.
Silver gave her a thoughtful “hmm...” before nodding. “ I think we should let her. She’s our resident expert on these things, so I say give her the final say on them until she gives us a damn good reason to believe otherwise. Plus, that little tidbit about his alliance with Darkmoon has me intrigued. I was actually doing some snooping around one of his former laboratories not too long before I got attacked. If he’s planning something big, I’d like to know what I can...” She smiled and tapped her guitar, “besides, worse comes to worst? I’m sure that demon is no match for the two of us.”
Touchdown grinned back, about to say something in confirmation when the lights started flickering and a smell of rosewater and opportunism filled the air. Astra’s voice took on a deep and ominous timbre as she finished the incantation. A flash of cold darkness emanated from the runes and there, rounding some impossible corner between realities, a woman stepped into being and out of the circle.
Zathrael’s presence was a striking one. She had pink skin and long, wine-red hair that slicked back and fell down her back perfectly straight, with matching eyes that beheld the world with a predator’s idle curiosity. She was wearing a clingy, burgundy article of clothing that could charitably be described as a dress, as if she had woken up that morning and decided that staying in her negligee would have left too much to the imagination, a disservice to the absurd perfection of her infernally sculpted curves. She put up her arms and stretched, showing off sharp, jet-black nails as she took a few cloven-hooved steps in Astra’s direction. She spoke some words to her in the same strange, guttural language that Astra used for her incantation, but coming from her the language sounded clear, melodic and altogether pleasant. Astra answered in her own pale imitation of the dialect, speaking lightly stunted-sounded sentences as she pointed at the circle, the accounts book, the body and finally at her two superheroic companions. Zathrael looked over at them “Goodness, but I didn’t know you brought your fellow mortals!” she smiled, showing off a set of sharp, pearly-white teeth. “Should I hide my Daemonic Aspect then? We are in polite company, after all.
“Eh...” said Astra, who had lost the intimidating presence she’d exuded when performing the summoning and was now staring slightly nervously at her demonic companion and her superhero co-workers in turn. Being in a room along with capes already had a tendency to make regular people look physically unassuming by comparison, but being next to Zathrael’s otherworldly presence drew out her somewhat slouching posture, tendency towards fidgeting with her clothes and the fact that her figure was lanky without being particularly tall. “I don’t think that’s necessary, no. They know what you are, and a daemon is exactly what we need right now.”
Zathrael nodded thoughtfully at Astra, then turned to the other two. “I do apologise for conversing in Daemonic in mixed company. We should really be using the... what was that cute little phrase you told me about the other day, Astra dear?”
  “You mean ‘lingua franca’?”
“Right!” Zathrael snapped her fingers, which produced some sparks, “that’s it!”
Touchdown eyed her suspiciously while Silver cleared her throat and stepped forward, “If you mean English, that would be nice, yeah.”
“Excellent!” Zathrael clasped her hands together, her smile like poisoned honey, “Oh, but it is such a rare treat to meet some of Astra’s mortal friends in person.” She gave the two capes a graceful bow, “allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrael of the Thirteenth Circle, lady-in-waiting at the Palace of Broken Dreams and, as your wandering eye may have already inferred...” she said, meeting Silver’s eyes, “succubus.” Slowly rising from her bow, she held out a hand. Touchdown blinked and struggled to direct her glare somewhere that wasn’t Zathrael’s body. Astra stayed next to the summoning circle, looking like she dearly wished she could skip this part. Silver took Zathrael’s hand and, exchanging a glance with a reluctantly nodding Astra, kissed it as offered. “I am Silver Siren, veteran member of the Hepatica Society of Superheroics. This is my colleague, Touchdown.” Touchdown nodded silently.
“Charmed, I’m sure,“ Zathrael crooned. She had the kind of voice that lent itself well to crooning things most people just spoke, “and what, may I ask, is the occasion for this summoning?”
“Well, we-“ Silver started, but Astra cut her off. “They’re investigating a murder, cape business.” She looked over at Silver, “I already told her most of the relevant facts “ then turned back to Zathrael, holding out the household account book in her hand. “We need you to have a look at this contract. The corpse as well. Tell us anything that could help us track down and pursue the killer.”
“Oh, I am certain I could provide some unique insights in your investigation...“ she turned to Silver and Touchdown, “and at a much shorter notice than your mortal mage’s bookish methodology would allow for.” She eyed Touchdown’s impatiently tapping foot, “and you do have the air of a group of people who have somewhere to be. A hot trail, perhaps?” She turned back to Astra, who failed to conceal the quick “tch” she’d let out in annoyance. “It was quite clever of you to skip over that particular little detail, by the way, I’m glad you picked up on my pointers on negotiation. A less observant daemon might have been kept from taking the high ground.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Touchdown.
Zathrael’s smile widened as she turned to face the heroes again, “it means that knowledge comes at a price, and I should like to discuss mine.”
“And what kind of price are we talking about here?” asked Silver, equal parts caution and intrigue.
“Well, your courtesy has been most gracious...” said the succubus, sweetly, “and I’ll confess I have a bit of a natural weakness for mature women... so for you?” she took a step towards Silver, “Frankly I’d settle for a bit of your time, or perhaps even just a kiss...” Silver found that she was blushing despite herself, and by the time she noticed, she found that she had taken a step closer in kind to meet Zathrael.
“Ahem...” Astra interrupted, interposing herself between the two, “Needless to say, that is a terrible idea and no such deal shall be struck. Zathrael, I love you, but you know I cannot allow you to beguile my friends or hand out corruptive kissing samples.”
Zathrael sighed, then shrugged, “What can I say, I had to try.”
Silver shook her head, clearing the light layer of fog that had settled on her thoughts, while Touchdown spoke up, “so you’ll help us without any of... whatever that was just now, then?”
“Oh, I’m afraid that I’ll still have to extract a payment of some sort,“ said Zathrael with an apologetic expression that was almost genuine.
Astra nodded. “She isn’t lying. Altruism is anathema to daemons, literally unthinkable. All favours must be transactional.”
“Sounds like a pain,“ Touchdown said.
Zathrael turned to Astra, “If you insist on one of our usual payment methods-“
“-I do.“
“-then I am afraid I shall have to triple the amount you owe me. I am helping three people here, you see? That constitutes thrice the length to which I must defy my nature.”
“Double,“ Astra said, “you are only helping out Touchdown and Silver Siren, I myself am merely acting as an intermediary.”
“A bit of a stretch...” said Zathrael, “but I admire your opportunist spirit, so a deal it is. I shall be taking my payment in impetus.”
“Is that... good?” Silver Siren said, exchanging a look with Astra, “what does ‘payment in impetus’ mean?”
Astra folded her arms and smiled, “yes, Zathrael. What does that mean?”
“It means she will pay me by allowing me to drain her impetus.” When Silver’s questioning look remained, Zathrael continued “her anima? Ragira?” she rolled her eyes, “or ‘mana,’ I suppose,“ she said, making the quotation marks practically audible.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of Mana,“ said Silver. “it’s like magic power, right?”
“Exactly,“ said Astra, “it’s the quasi-corporeal willpower that spellcasters exhaust to exert influence over reality. It has many names,“ she spoke pointedly as she added “with ‘mana’ being one of the most widespread ones in common parlance. Zathrael just doesn’t like it because people mostly know it from videogames.”
Zathrael let out a melodic little laugh,“You are adorable when you debate linguistics, dear, but for now I believe it’s less pressing what you call it and more pressing that you surrender it to me.”
“You’re correct, we’ve wasted enough time.” Astra tapped the little book and continued “But since we are working on the clock of my colleagues, I believe it should be contract first and... extraction later.“
“You drive a hard bargain, miss Mayflower...” Zathrael sighed dramatically, “very well,“ she said, licking her finger with a little flourish and opening up the book, “I shall just have to milk you after we’re done.”
Silver and Touchdown exchanged a look, the former mouthing “Did she just say...?” before they turned their eyes towards Astra, whose beet red face was buried in an old car manual from among the tableful of papers that she’d abruptly taken a deep enough interest in to warrant being removed from the conversation entirely right now, please.
Zathrael, wearing the kind of shit-eating grin appropriate for someone who’d just arrived from hell, proceeded to flip through the contract swiftly, letting out an occasional “hmm...” or “ah, I see,” as she went. When she was done, she spoke up “I think I see what you’ve overlooked here. You’re not particularly familiar with Fourth Circle idioms, are you, Astra?”
Astra laid down her car manual. “I... suppose not? I don’t believe I’ve dealt with that particular circle much.”
“I surmised as much...” said Zathrael, “consider this a free lesson, then. You said a gargoyle demanded 15 years of service of the mortal, yes?”
Astra nodded.
“Now, the word you used when describing the contract was-“ she uttered a sibilant word that sounded like a sepulchral howling wind. Astra continued to nod in agreement, a student taking mental notes. “broadly speaking, this is not far from the truth, but your inexperience led you to two crucial mistakes. First, fourth circle dialect sometimes foregoes an explicit plural form in favour of context clues. In this case, the tasks required and typical socialisation habits of the gargoyle clarify that mister Lucci brokered the services of not one, but three of them.”
“I see,“ said Astra, doing her best to layer a calm face over a mix of interest and frustration, “and what about that word I used for service?”
“Well, the phrase used in the contract was an archaic one, -“ Zathrael uttered a word in the back of her throat, heavy, like a rock being rolled to seal a tomb. “it doesn’t refer to life spent in service... but life, period.” She raised a half-closed hand to her mouth to conceal a chuckle. “I wouldn’t feel too bad about missing that little detail. I believe mister Lucci did as well, or he wouldn’t have accepted the terms. Especially considering his contractors demanded 15 years each.” She nodded towards the corpse, “I don’t believe he survived the transaction.”
“Wait...” said Silver Siren, “Are you saying that the murder victim here is Musclemancer?”
Zathrael nodded, walking over to the rune circle and examining it. Astra stared at the corpse and thoughtfully mused “it would make everything fall into place...”
“So... what, those demons aged him up somehow? Turned him into an old man?” asked Touchdown, trying to wrap her head around it, “why would they do that?”
“They didn’t turn him into anything,“ Astra continued to stare at the body, putting the pieces together in her head, “they took his time, forty-five years of it, as payment. Entropy simply filled the void after that. Nature abhors a vacuum, after all.”
“That...” Touchdown’s eyelid twitched, minutely, “that doesn’t make sense... does it?”
Silver shrugged. “Magic users never made much sense to me. I’m just glad to have one on our side.”
“Say, Astra?” said Zathrael, beckoning her over, “there is one more thing I should like to discuss with you.”
“Oh, what is it?” said Astra, stepping over.
“Well... firstly, there was one more thing in the contract you overlooked,“ Zathrael produced the little booklet once more and directed Astra’s eyes towards one of the passages. “You see, among the rights granted to the daemons was sanctuary-“
“In the contractor’s guestroom, yes, I saw.” Astra interrupted, “but Silver told me she’d searched the house already.”
“I don’t think we missed any demons,“ Silver chuckled.
“Yep, checked the beds. No monsters under ‘em,“ added Touchdown.
“I am glad to hear it,“ said Zathrael, “in that case... I think I will be holding you to your end of our bargain.“ she leaned in, slipping one arm over Astra’s shoulder and removing the brooch on her half-cloak with one swift, elegant motion of her other hand. As it slid off, revealing the low cut of her dress underneath, her eyes widened and another blush formed on the goth girl’s face. “Zathrael!” she stage-whispered, “I told you, not here, wait until I get home!”
“Oh, I know,“ said Zathrael, ever-so-slowly tracing a nail down Astra’s collarbone and towards her modest chest. It stopped for a moment as Zathrael raised her voice for the other two women to hear, “it may also please you to know that the text specified that the saferoom was a cellar, specifically a hidden one.”
Touchdown tensed. “The fuck did she just say?”
The crockery in a nearby cupboard clinked and rattled as the floor started to lightly rumble.
“Oh crap...” muttered Silver
“Zathrael?” asked Astra, trying to take a step back but feeling the succubus’ grip around her shoulder tighten.
“Now, far be it from me to doubt your capabilities in dealing with such beasts...” Zathrael continued, “but you’ll excuse me for not taking any risks of my human getting damaged.”
“Zathrael?” Astra’s voice grew louder as she started to struggle, “what are you doing?!”
The runes around the circle started to glow. Astra noticed that Zathrael had changed the coordinates again, “Honouring our agreement, of course. I provided all the knowledge I could, and in return I will be draining you. Right now. In the comfort and safety of your own home.”
There was a loud thunk from below the floorboards.
“Wait!” yelled Astra, “I can help them! I prepared spells, I can-“
Silver and touchdown would never learn what Astra would have been able to do, however, as the succubus and mage both disappeared in a flash of rose-tinted flame centred on the circle. “Shit, shit shit!” Touchdown cursed through her teeth and began to frantically rummage through her duffle bag. Another loud thud came from beneath. The floorboards cracked visibly. Silver, thinking quickly, concentrated her powers on the nearby floor and created the sound of two sets of footfalls leading to the next room and towards the stairs. The monsters couldn’t see her yet, and with any luck the sound would lead them to direct their attention the wrong way in the crucial first second or two after they’d burst through there. That was about all she could manage to do before the next blow came from below and, with a harsh crack and a rain of splinters, the floorboards broke. The thing that came bursting through looked awful. Its rough skin, which looked a pallid grey in the living room’s flickering yellow light, was drawn taut over its bones. Its head was angular, skeletal and as gaunt as the rest of it, and the fact that the features looked vaguely human seemed more like a cruel joke than any sort of familiar comfort. It was large, it would have stood almost twice as tall as Silver if it had stood up. Instead, it hunched over, extending a leanly muscular arm-like appendage and flinging one of its six clawed hands in the direction of the false footsteps. Seeing a second gargoyle’s hand rise from the hole in the floor, Silver quickly dove out of the room, dampening the sound of her real footfalls.
Silver was no slouch in a fight, but honestly, the main reason she’d survived her earlier encounter with one of these monsters was that it chose to attack her near the Society’s headquarters, within range of other capes whose abilities were better suited to fighting them. They had strange physiologies that didn’t seem very susceptible to being hurt by sound or by being smashed with a guitar, so there wasn’t much she could do on her own. Luckily, she wasn’t on her own. Not that time, and not this time either. A veteran hero knew when to hold them and when to fold them... and right now, touchdown was a much better choice for taking on these creatures than she was. The only issue was, Silver wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle two at a time...
Touchdown, for her part, had gotten to her duffel bag just in time to take out a standard size American-style football. Using her teeth, she took the glove off of her regular hand and took it off, then used that hand to grab the ball. That was all she had time to do before the sharp tip of a granite-like tail shot out at her. She dodged deftly as the appendage rendered the book case that had been behind her up until half a second ago in shambles. She felt the weight of the ball gradually increase, a result of her superpower. These things looked sturdy, it’d need a good few seconds. Touchdown hoped she could hold on that long. A claw came her way, and another. Again, she ducked and weaved out of the way, using her mechanical arm to redirect any hits she couldn’t dodge in time. It was... easier than she expected. Like the gargoyle was fighting her only as an afterthought.
Silver was making her way over to where she remembered the garage being. Touchdown’s grunts of exertion from the other room were heavier than Silver had thought. If she wasn’t enough, Silver would have to help out with a distraction. Even with hearing like hers, it was hard to get a clear picture of how well things were going for Touchdown. That was alright, though. Silver was used to making calls under stress, and she’d built up good instincts for it. She breathed in and projected a yell into the increasingly destroyed living room. “Hey assholes! You’re here for me, right? Then come and get me!”
As expected, they took the bait. As she slipped into the garage, she could just briefly see the gargoyles rushing over. At the end of the day, the contract had said they were to kill her, after all, fighting Touchdown wouldn’t be nearly as important to them. One of the gargoyles came awkwardly crawling through the door into the hallway. Behind it, Silver could see the other still swiping at Touchdown, the pale pinpricks of light in its hollow eyes fixed impatiently on Silver.
Earlier, while she and Touchdown were doing their initial sweep of the house, Silver had seen that, while in retrospect it hadn’t been actively lived in for a while, it did once have a very fancy surround sound system, the sort of thing you show off to any guests with. Of course, once a home becomes a supervillain safehouse, guests become something of a fringe possibility, and an unwanted one at that. Which is presumably why all of the speakers had been moved to long-term storage, in the garage.
Silver dashed into the room, grabbing a shelf and, with a groan of exertion, yanked it hard so it toppled over and barricaded the door, just for good measure. The clawing started almost right away and Silver knew immediately that, as expected, that little stunt would only buy her a handful of seconds. A horrible screech like stone scraping over stone sounded out from behind the creaking, breaking wood of the shelf. Silver took a cable that was tucked behind a stack of old records and ran over to the corner, where there stood a large speaker, perfect for channelling her power through. She rarely found herself in the kind of situation where she needed the extra juice, or could afford to risk the collateral damage, for that matter, but to even stun one of these monsters, she was going to need a lot more volume than she could bring on her own. She plugged in her guitar with a swift motion and finished angling the speaker towards the door right as the gargoyle burst through the barricade. For a fraction of a second, its pale yellow pinpricks met her steely silver gaze. Then, as she lifted her arm, ready to hit the creature with an amped-up power chord, its eyes shot towards the speaker and it opened its mouth. A thin stream of highly pressurised water came shooting out and cut the speaker clean in half, leaving a noticeable cut in the floor and wall behind it. By the time silver got the chord out, it was barely enough to faze the creature.
Silver made a little grunting noise and cursed to herself “It’s called a gargoyle, of course it’d shoot water!” before launching a few more chords at the thing. She didn’t hold back, unafraid to cause lasting damage to her opponent or the room she was in. At one point, she was pretty sure she even saw a small crack form somewhere in the creature’s stony skin, but the damage was light and superficial, and it simply crawled forward, breaking shelves and closets as it went. It filled up half the room, there was little room to dodge... the gargoyle seemed to be aware of this, as it took its time, grinning, saying something in that strange language Zathrael had spoken earlier, extending a claw overhead that-

CRASH

an oval-shaped leather ball came soaring through the air, knocking the gargoyle’s extended limb clean off with a loud crack and flying straight through the wall behind it, leaving a crater where it landed in the garden.
a loud “Hey ugly!” came from the broken shelf-barricade. The creature looked around to see Touchdown, mechanical arm left hanging after its throwing motion. Her flesh-and-blood hand was holding onto the shocked-looking head of the other gargoyle before she dropped it, leaving a crack in the floor. “Eyes on the prize, rocks-for-brains!” she grinned, running at the creature as her mechanical hand balled up into a fist and reached back, winding up for a punch. The gargoyle, still looming over Silver, could only get one of its limbs in place to swipe at the incoming athlete. Touchdown caught it with her mechanical arm, which creaked worryingly at the strain of the impact. She kept running, a flash of blue and red dashing into the gargoyle’s personal space, and placed her other hand on the creature’s side, open-palmed against its ribcage. She flashed a grin and yelled, in a coarse, husky voice “Touchdown!”
For a second, nothing happened. The gargoyle looked down, confused. Then, when it tried to move, it toppled to the ground, its limbs sprawled out, crushing storage boxes and old electronics beneath them. Touchdown’s hand remained in contact with its coarse grey skin, its touch flooding the creature with more gravity, ever passing second. “One touch...” the thing started crumbling, cracks started forming in the concrete floor beneath its body, “and you’re down!”
Normally, Silver would have been tempted to say something about how it’s cruel to subject someone to that pun as the last words they hear, but considering the subject of her touch was a) a murderous demon and b) about to kill her before Touchdown saved her life, Silver decided to instead just dust herself off and say “thanks, that was a close call.” Before adding “that power of yours is really something, no matter how often I see it.”
“Oh, my gravity touch ain’t good for much...” said Touchdown, standing up from the crumbling monster and putting her glove back on “but if you need a heavy-handed approach, I’m your gal.”
Silver wiped some dust off the sleeves of her leather jacket, “Let’s go over to Astra’s office. I need to see if her demon friend is still around so I can give her a piece of my mind about that little stunt she pulled.” She smiled, “and after that... I think I need some shut-eye.” She tapped one of the gargoyle’s broken-off limbs with her boot, “I have a feeling I could sleep like a rock.”