Busted and bound

Somewhere in San Francisco, the silence of the underground lair was shattered by a thunderous crash. Armed men stormed in, boots pounding against the cold cement floor as the reinforced door gave way.

"Search the whole place and leave no one behind!" the commander barked. "I repeat—capture everyone!"

Agents swarmed the compound like a tide. Flashlights cut through the dim lighting, guns drawn, eyes scanning. Shouts echoed as bodies were pinned and restrained. Chaos unfolded swiftly.

"The cops are here, boss!" a woman cried, fear lacing her voice. "Looks like we've been busted."

The panic in her movements betrayed her urgency as she struggled to run, her legs wobbling under pressure. Behind her, her boss followed sluggishly, making the escape even more precarious.

"This way! Take the escape route!" the woman—Wild Cat—urged, gripping her companion's arm tightly.

Suddenly, a commanding voice cut through the noise. "Hold it right there!" A tall, imposing man stepped into view. His gun raised, eyes sharp. "Hands on your head. Turn around—slowly."

The women halted as instructed, but Wild Cat moved unexpectedly. In a swift, desperate move, she lunged forward, headbutting the officer with a vicious snap, sending him stumbling.

"Shit—" the man hissed, pain lacing his voice. He grabbed his radio. "Suspects fleeing—requesting backup at the east tunnel. Two females. Repeat—two females."

"Move it, Ana!" Wild Cat shouted as they dashed through the dim corridor.

But the exit held no salvation. At the tunnel's end, a group of armed officers stood waiting. Guns raised. They were surrounded.

"On your knees. Now!" one officer barked.

Ana and Wild Cat dropped, breathless, as cuffs clinked behind their backs.

"We got them, boss," a black-clad agent reported into his earpiece. His muscular frame and fierce presence made him stand out even in a sea of agents. Wild Cat stared up at him, her eyes narrowing despite the defeat. "Busted..." she muttered, teeth clenched.

---

CHICAGO

"Ahhh! I got into UCLA!" Azula burst into the house, waving her acceptance letter.

Mr. Quin emerged from the kitchen, arms wide. "Oh sweetheart, that's amazing!" He pulled her into a warm hug, kissing her forehead.

But then, almost immediately, his gaze turned. "And Azuka? Where's your report?"

Azuka stepped forward, voice low. "I got into NYU."

A beat of silence passed. "Aww, come here honey," their mother said, setting her spoon down as she opened her arms to Azuka. "It's okay to go to a different university."

"I already told him that," Azula chimed in with a deadpan tone. "But he insisted we had to be in the same school."

Mr. Quin chuckled. "Come on, Azula. Show your sulking twin some love."

Rolling her eyes dramatically, she opened her arms. "Alright, alright. Come here, bro."

Azuka stepped into the hug, dwarfing her. At nearly seven feet tall, lean and fit, he made Azula's five-foot frame disappear in his arms. Though Azuka didn't have the sculpted abs girls swooned over, he had the face of a model—and the heart of a big brother.

Azula, beautiful and blissfully unaware of her charm, remained as carefree as ever. One of the reasons for Azuka's silent frustration was his protective nature—constantly batting away boys from his sister like an overbearing bodyguard. But now, as they prepared to head off to different coasts, unease crept into his heart.

"Alright," he finally said, shaking off the thought.

"At least you'll be with sis Becca," Azula pouted, folding her arms. "I'll be all alone in California."

Azuka smirked at her playful expression. Despite everything, they were each other's anchors—bracing for a world that was about to change.