Big Heart

The door creaked open, and a large figure loomed over them. "Big Heart" filled the doorway, his wide frame nearly blocking the dim light inside. He had the kind of presence that demanded attention—tall, broad-shouldered, his dark skin shining slightly under the flickering hallway bulb. His gold chain glinted as he moved, and his deep-set eyes studied Germination before settling on Hal.

"About time," Big Heart rumbled, stepping aside. "Get in."

Hal entered first, and Germination followed, keeping her expression neutral. The apartment smelled of cheap cologne, alcohol, and something vaguely metallic. Inside, the living room was cluttered but functional—an old couch with mismatched cushions, a TV playing a muted action movie, and a table covered in cigarette packs, playing cards, and empty bottles.

Big Heart flopped onto the couch and gestured for them to sit. "Ain't no interrogation or none of that," he said, smirking at Germination's tense posture. "We got more important things to talk about."

Germination hesitated before sitting on a rickety chair, while Hal took a spot on the armrest of the couch.

Big Heart cracked his knuckles. "So here's what went down," he began. "Couple of punks jumped me and my boy two nights ago. Took my damn corner. We were sittin' right there, handling business, and next thing you know—bam. Got blindsided. We fought back, but they had numbers." He rubbed his jaw, as if remembering the pain. "My boy, he wasn't having it, so he went straight to Oriken."

Hal's stomach twisted. "He got an audience with Oriken that fast?"

Big Heart nodded. "Yeah. And we goin' back tomorrow to take what's ours." He glanced at Germination, his lips curling into a half-smile. "But first, gotta see what our new recruit can do."

Germination tensed slightly. "What do you mean?"

Big Heart leaned forward. "Show me what you got. Your powers. Gotta make sure you ain't dead weight."

Hal stiffened. "Come on, Big. You don't need to—"

Big Heart lifted a hand. "Nah, nah. I do need to. Ain't takin' some random into a fight without knowin' what she's packin'."

Germination exhaled through her nose and slowly stood. "Fine."

She reached up and ran a hand through her thick green hair. The strands shifted, moving unnaturally as if alive. The air in the room subtly changed—an earthy scent spreading as small green spores began to drift from her scalp, glowing faintly in the dim light.

Big Heart whistled. "Damn. That's some weird-ass shit."

He watched as the spores settled onto the wooden table, tiny vines sprouting from where they landed. Germination let the effect linger for a moment before closing her hand, absorbing the spores back into herself. The vines withered instantly.

Big Heart rubbed his chin. "A'ight. That's interestin'. But now, lemme ask you somethin'."

Germination narrowed her eyes. "What?"

Big Heart grinned. "Where you from?"

She blinked. "What?"

"You know. Your hood. Your street. Where you from?"

Germination glanced at Hal briefly before answering, "Same place as him. We grew up together."

Big Heart nodded slowly, as if weighing her words. "A'ight. What's your real name?"

Germination's pulse quickened. "Don't test me."

Another nod and a laugh. "Why you in this?"

She kept her voice steady. "Money. My powers don't mean much for regular work. I used to sell flowers. Wasn't enough."

Big Heart scratched his jaw. "Huh. Ain't often you see someone with powers tryin' to live normal. Usually, you a hero or a villain." He studied her for a second longer before shrugging. "Guess I can respect that."

Hal relaxed slightly, but Big Heart wasn't done.

"You ever been to prison?"

"No."

"You know anyone else in the game 'sides Hal?"

"No."

Big Heart smirked. "You single?"

Germination's expression didn't change. "Yes."

Big Heart barked a laugh. "Damn. You all serious, huh?" He leaned back on the couch, rubbing his hands together. "Well, guess there's only one thing left to do."

Hal's stomach twisted again. "Big—"

But Big Heart was already reaching under a thin mattress lying on the floor. He pulled out a brown paper bag, shaking it with excitement before opening it. From inside, he pulled out a long, black revolver.

A a long-barreled revolver, heavy and worn from use.

He aimed it directly at Germination's forehead.

BANG!

The sound came from his mouth, not the gun, but the moment stretched unbearably long. Hal flinched, his heart slamming in his chest. Germination, however, didn't even blink.

Big Heart roared with laughter, lowering the weapon. "Ohhh, she cold! I like her." He grinned at Hal. "You got yourself a real one, man. She's in."

Hal exhaled slowly, forcing a smile as Big Heart slid the gun across the table. "Picked this up from Oriken. My boy got one too."

Hal frowned. "Wait—who's your boy?"

Big Heart's grin widened. "Blondie."

Hal's face dropped. "Oh, hell no."

Germination looked between them. "Who's Blondie?"

Before Hal could answer, Big Heart clapped him on the back. "Man's a legend. Funniest dude you'll ever meet."

Hal rubbed his temples. "He means completely insane."

Big Heart shrugged. "Yeah, well. Sometimes he is like that."

He grabbed the revolver by the barrel and extended the grip toward Hal. "You in or not?"

Hal hesitated, staring at the weapon. A moment passed before he finally reached out and took it, tucking it into his waistband.

Big Heart beamed. "That's what I'm talkin' about." He reached into the bag again, pulling out something bulkier. "Now, check this out."

He lifted a a compact submachine gun with a sleek, old-school design, small but deadly in close quarters., running his fingers over the weapon like it was a prized possession. "Shoots like crazy. And wait 'til you see what Blondie got."

Hal groaned. "Please don't tell me he has a—"

Big Heart cut him off. "Bruh. You just gotta see it. It's insane." He struggled to describe it. "Like a beast, but compact. A beauty and a monster. Shit's too crazy to explain."

He finally gave up. "Man, you'll see tomorrow."

Hal forced another smile. He wasn't sure if he was ready for tomorrow.

But there was no turning back now.

Big Heart leaned back, laughing as he slid the paper bag aside. "Now that's settled, how 'bout a drink? Celebrate properly."

Hal stiffened. He didn't like staying longer than necessary, especially not with Blondie on his way, but Germination barely hesitated. She reached for the glass Big Heart poured, lifting it without hesitation.

"Damn," Big Heart chuckled, raising his own glass. "I like this one."

Hal hesitated, then took the offered glass as well. He wasn't planning to drink, but refusing outright would only make him look weaker.

Blondie strolled in a few minutes later, grinning like he already owned the place. He greeted Big Heart with an exaggerated handshake, eyeing Germination with mild curiosity before turning to Hal.

"Didn't think I'd see you drinking with us," Blondie smirked.

Hal shrugged, rolling the glass between his fingers. "Didn't think you'd still be alive."

Blondie burst into laughter, slapping Hal on the back hard enough to make him choke. "Still got that mouth on you. Good to know some things don't change."

The conversation drifted toward the upcoming fight for the corner, with Big Heart laying out expectations while Germination listened, blending into the group. Hal noticed how she moved—watchful, cautious, but doing her best to seem natural. If she was nervous, she didn't show it.

Eventually, the drinks ran dry, and the night wound down. Big Heart stood, stretching. "Alright. Y'all get some rest. Tomorrow, we take back what's ours."

The bar was dimly lit, filled with the murmur of quiet conversations and the clinking of glasses. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and cigarettes, a place where business thrived in the shadows. Héctor sat in a corner booth, his posture relaxed but his mind sharp. Across from him, a young man placed a thin envelope on the table, sliding it forward with careful fingers.

Héctor didn't rush. He picked up the envelope, opened it, and flipped through the documents inside. Photographs of costumed figures, grainy but clear enough. Names, limited details about their abilities, and small notes written in shorthand. It wasn't perfect, but it was more than he had yesterday.

The young man, Kaoru's cousin, sat stiffly, waiting for acknowledgment. Héctor pulled out a small stack of bills and slid them forward in return. The deal was done.

Without a word, the young man stood and left. Héctor let his fingers rest on the papers a moment longer before closing the envelope and tapping it against the table.

"Interesante," murmuró para sí mismo.

He lifted his gaze to his crew, gathered around, waiting. Slowly, he pulled out a few of the pictures, spreading them across the table. The images of the Super Squad lay under the dim light, their masked faces staring back at them.

"We have names and faces," Héctor said, tapping a finger over OctoMan's picture. "But more importantly, we have useful information on some of them."

He separated the images into two groups. "OctoMan, Professor Pollen, and Needlepoint… we know plenty. Retro and Chameleon… almost nothing."

His crew—Hisori, Yuna, Riku, Masa, and Kaoru—leaned in, studying the pictures like they were about to take a test on them. In a way, they were.

"But more importantly, we have useful information on some of them." Héctor continued. "We know their strengths, and more importantly, we know their weaknesses."

A few of his guys exchanged glances, the younger ones straightening up, their eyes flickering with excitement. Héctor let the moment settle before leaning back.

"This is just the beginning," he said, his tone shifting. "Because tonight, I have a meeting."

He paused, letting the words sink in.

"A very important meeting."

The mood shifted. His crew straightened, listening closely.

"Through the Orisa, I've secured a meeting with an old acquaintance," Héctor said, his fingers tapping the table lightly. "Someone who knows the trade, someone who can provide us with steady product. No more small-time deals. We're moving up."

A ripple of approval moved through the group. They weren't just scraping by anymore. They were about to become something bigger.

Héctor let the energy build before delivering the next part. "And since we're expanding, it's time you all moved up too."

He let his gaze travel over them before nodding. "From today forward, you're no longer just runners. You're my lieutenants."

A beat of silence, then a slow grin spread across their faces. The shift was real. This wasn't just about selling anymore. This was power.

"But," Héctor added, his voice sharp, "with rank comes responsibility. You want to build something? Start thinking bigger. You want soldiers under you? Fine. But only people you trust. And before anything moves forward, you clear it with me first."

No objections. Just firm nods. They understood the rules.

"Good," Héctor said, pushing back from the table. "Then let's get to work."

The game was changing, and soon, the city would feel it.