Catcall Part 1

As this superhuman society of ours keeps rolling by at breakneck speeds, it seems that we as people are in such a hurry we lose sight of the finer details. Long gone are the days where the little details mattered, no instead, we have to focus on the next big flashy person or product, basking only in the surface level, which is fine by me. Surface is how I defined my career.

The philosopher Brian Mynd wrote a book when this whole thing was new, wondering what myths, legends, and other influences led us to create the modern-day heroes and villains. And while I'm sure every person has their fun little answer, I sure knew who my inspiration was. Out of all the bruisers, themers, schemers, anarchists, and revolutionaries, one type of villain always got my blood boiling.

And that was the gentleman thief, even if I was usually anything but that. The way they danced around the cops like little playthings, the way they never lost their seemingly endless cool hell, even the way they looked, just all screamed fashion incarnate. So it was only a matter of time before I turned my fascination to full-on obsession and, later, action.

After all, if lions need to hunt, birds need to fly, and fish swim, why can't humans do what's in their nature and take from others? With that philosophy in mind, I looked at my delicious new prize, a warehouse laid on the fringes between the lower and middle levels.

To many, it seemed like just another decaying establishment amongst a graveyard of buildings that should have died out a long time ago, but for me, it was my ticket to a jackpot that most people in Krimo would never know.

As I watched over my prey through my advanced holo binoculars, I got a great view of the land. January hit Krimo like a storm, quickly covering its many rooftops with mounds of snow and ice, along with whipping winds that carried even more snowflakes across the entire city like a sand storm. As a result, every low-altitude hovercraft between said warehouse and me got trapped in a deadlock.

That alone made me even more glad about the recent modifications my new suit just got making me feel warm yet still plenty fashionable amongst said winds. My little helper outdid themselves, arming me with a large light grey bodysuit with a small, not too busy belt. That all, combined with the black underarms and sides, mixed with the black tinted goggles and face mask, gave me the secret sultry look I've always wanted.

Using the suits' diverse array of lit-up buttons and gadgets while I scanned for those finer details. And just like a word puzzle, I was able to find it, the security system that felt far too advanced given the relatively superficially small scale location.

Through the most minute details, a subtle groove, a slight shimmer, a snowflake that hung on for a little too long was all I needed to know that "he" had finally got them set up. Robotics was still a very experimental and rare technology in this superhuman society. It would probably take a decade before the general public would use them, much less any settlements from the middle and lower levels.

So you know something was a little wrong when I managed to find ten cloaked robots that probably had enough firepower to cleave a person in half through ammunition alone. "He" really outdid himself once again. But now that I think about it, he always did try his best to protect his possessions, which would make it all the more satisfying when I managed to steal said possessions right from under him.

Once I memorized where each robot on my now obvious route was, I quickly got into my usual routine, stretching my body and limbering it up just enough to get right to work. Then, with complete subconscious effort, I activated my power. All at once, a swirling aura of almost silver win enveloped my entire body, slowing the world down to an absurd crawl.

Every revolution made the slow-motion even more apparent. The almost weaponized snowflakes seemed to stand still in the night sky, and blaring vehicles got slurred to the point where I couldn't even recognize the sound anymore. Overall, setting a perfect stage for my latest escapade. Once my aura started to settle down at this winding speed, my full power became unleashed.

Upon preparing my jump, the stone beneath me started to crack like a thin sheet of ice, barely being able to hold itself together as I lifted off like a rocket! In only a couple of seconds, I danced across the air, somersaulting to a nearby hovercraft that I use as a platform to make the jump towards the nearby buildings.

From there, I bounced across the buildings, rising high into the air. Once I had all of them in my sights, while still being in range, I pulled from my pouch a set of darts, though I doubt anyone would want to play with these. Then, while accounting for the wind and structural integrity, I gave a gentle flick with each of my projectiles. By the time I descended from above, time had resumed like normal.

As fast as those outdated bullets, my darts magnetized each robot and gave a powerful shock in return. However, while the darts worked, the robots didn't as they remained inert even upon my now direct presence. I almost thought that, for once, my little helper's specs were wrong.

But I knew in my heart that wasn't right. Deciding to test my theory, even more, I decided to simply walk up to the nearest robot in front of me and give it a hearty kick! A large dent appeared in the earlier shimmer, eventually breaking it down just enough to see a piece of white metal; other than that, no reaction.

Considering how thorough 'he" and my helper can be, only one possibility comes to mind now. However, someone else had already appeared here, and I doubt they were as friendly as moi.

So with the clock ticking, I snuck in to see who I was dealing with. I can't particularly say that it wasn't a sight for sore eyes.

It was a far cry from crafted marble, tempered glass, and oriental fabric, but I think that's why I loved it. I happily take freedom and danger over little comfort anyway. Maybe that's why I'm the way I am. Either way, the warehouse might as well have been a museum, with seemingly mile-high stacks of objects with simply nameless owners long past.

Given the nature of the city, I doubt anyone but the gullible or cheap would invest in making such a decision; either way, the place certainly lived up to its average build. Using tiny bursts of my ability, I managed to get a vantage point high above as I made my way towards the jackpot.

Unfortunately, said the jackpot was about to be stolen, as six distinct yet familiar faces huddled over a door with a high-tech handprint. So, once again, I used a moderate burst of speed, picking out bits and pieces of a rather exciting conversation through sheer focus alone.

"What's taking so long, Port?"

"Well, excuse me, you try hacking into a triple DNA sequence lock using experimental nanite tech from a clinical wackjob."

"Don't give Eternus that much spite, Port; he's just trying to make sure that this sticky situation of ours is temporary, so we don't end up in a permanent cell. If my contacts and Buzz are right, then this could be a bigger jackpot than Robin Financial."

"Buzz being right? That'll be the day. And jail seems to be the last thing to worry about; we've got a visitor," the blonde woman said.

In a move that surprised even me in terms of its sheer speed, I narrowly avoided an almost dead-on laser blast, securing a practically perfect landing while instantly moving into a raised combat position. Then, with my perceptions still very much heightened, I saw my opponents walk approach forward in slow motion like it was something out of an action movie.

When it probably took to tie one's shoelaces, I already got a good analysis of my familiar faces. But, try as you might; no matter how much you work to hide it, even the smallest expression can betray your inner thoughts. And after a lifetime of reading people like a book, believe you me, I couldn't mistake who these people were for anything.

Because in this superhuman society of ours, I somehow was able to have a rather exciting interaction with the worst of the worst. If recent news got believed, they are trying to be the worst. And with their now seemingly ever-present, overpowering infamy in the criminal underworld, one would usually ask who I was?

Though that question came with an easy answer, let's just say that I was someone with the "nerve" to face off against the aptly named Cons.