Mission Ratings

Steel Alfredo sat up in his hospital bed, staring blankly at the far wall. Morning light filtered through the half-shuttered window, casting pale beams across the white floors. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and burnt ozone.

Across from him, The Blacksmith lay asleep in another bed, his chest rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths.

But Alfredo wasn't looking at him.

His eyes were fixed on a poster tacked to the opposite wall.... one of Firepower, mid-flight, fists blazing. His gaze went right through it.

His mind was elsewhere.

Back on that street.

Back to Big Rick.

For a brief moment, just a flicker in the chaos, Alfredo had been the strongest of the recruits. He'd felt it... the raw, untamed surge of power that pushed back the impossible.

But it hadn't lasted.

The Blacksmith had surged past him like a rocket breaking through clouds, and even Froststorm had risen to the occasion. And Alfredo… he'd just burned out.

His fists clenched under the blanket.

Why me?

Why am I the weakest?

His jaw tightened. He could taste the frustration.

I have to get stronger.

Tanaka can't beat me. I won't let him.

Then movement. The Blacksmith stirred, groaning slightly as he opened his eyes. He blinked, disoriented, scanning the unfamiliar ceiling.

He turned his head toward Alfredo.

"Where are we?" he mumbled, his voice dry.

"We're in a Horizon Hospital," Alfredo replied flatly. Then, with a faint smirk, "So… you aren't dead after all. Slept like a log."

The Blacksmith cracked a grin. "I don't die easy."

A pause.

"Where's the ice girl?"

"She's in the other room. Stable."

The Blacksmith nodded slowly, eyes narrowing.

"So we made it," he said, more to himself. "We really beat the big guy."

That was the trigger.

Alfredo clenched his jaw again. The words stung deeper than they should have.

"You mean you beat him," he snapped suddenly, his voice sharp. "That was your moment. You stole the spotlight. But next time, I swear… I'll do better. Stronger. I won't be the one dragging behind."

The Blacksmith didn't react with anger or mockery. He just listened, calm and quiet, letting Alfredo vent. Letting him spit out the frustration, the envy, the wounded pride.

When Alfredo was finally done, breathing hard, fists balled against his sheets… The Blacksmith spoke.

"Good," he said evenly. "Give it your best…"

Then, with a faint smile, "...but you still won't touch me."

Before Alfredo could respond, the door slid open with a soft hiss.

Laura Bennet stepped in, dressed sharply in a navy blazer. Behind her walked a tall, striking woman in a deep red armored suit. Her presence immediately filled the room ....confident, poised, and utterly unreadable.

Her suit gleamed under the hospital lights, perfectly fitted, and clearly custom-made. No name tag, no insignia… but she didn't need one.

Both boys turned to look.

Laura gave a brief nod.

"I thought you might want to meet someone," she said.

The woman in red offered a small smile, polite, but unreadable.

Neither Alfredo nor The Blacksmith spoke right away.

"This is Ms. Red," Laura said, stepping aside with a smile that lit up the room. "You might've heard of her…"

The tall woman in red armor gave a courteous nod, but the moment she saw the blank stares from both boys, her smile faded.

Steel Alfredo scratched his nose, unimpressed.

Ms. Red blinked. "Seriously?"

Silence.

"I'm Ms. Red, seventy-two, hero ranking. I've been on six intercity raids and led the Nimbus Tower evacuation during the Chimera breach," she said, her tone tight with irritation.

"Yeah… doesn't ring a bell," Alfredo replied, shrugging. "Sorry, ma'am."

Laura laughed softly. "Well, now you know her."

The Blacksmith simply watched, expression unreadable.

Laura pressed on. "She's your senior. That means she can issue orders....field or otherwise."

The Blacksmith raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "Sure. She can give me orders… until the day my rating passes hers."

Ms. Red tilted her head slightly, eyeing him. "Keep dreaming, rookie."

Alfredo leaned forward, grinning. "I don't mind being ordered around by a beautiful woman in a tight suit."

Ms. Red's gaze turned ice cold. "Say something like that again, and I'll show you what a seventy-two rating feels like."

Alfredo leaned back, hands up in surrender, grin still in place.

"Alright," Laura cut in, her tone shifting. "Let's get serious. Ms. Red?"

Ms. Red took a step forward, her tone measured and professional now. "You've both figured it out, haven't you? Big Rick… he wasn't a Level-4."

She paused. Her expression turned grim.

"He was a Level-3."

The air in the room shifted.

"The Horizon intelligence division made an error in classification," she continued. "And for that, we take full responsibility."

Alfredo blinked. "You mean… we were sent in against something above our clearance?"

"Yes," Ms. Red said flatly. "And you survived. That's the only reason you're sitting here now instead of being studied alongside his corpse."

The Blacksmith leaned back into his pillow, quiet. Thoughtful.

"You're no longer just trainees," Laura added gently. "After this, the world knows your names."

"And it's only going to get more dangerous from here," Ms. Red said, folding her arms. "So toughen up. That wasn't your last nightmare. Just your first."

"We're ready," Steel Alfredo said, his voice steady.

"I know you are," Ms. Red replied, glancing over her shoulder. "But before you walk out of here feeling like hotshots… your mission ratings just came in."

Laura handed her a sleek black tablet. The screen glowed faintly as Ms. Red scanned it.

"As you know, all registered heroes are scored after each mission," she said. "Performance. Strategy. Impact. The works."

She looked up, face unreadable.

"I'll read them out."

The room held its breath.

"Steel Alfredo - 4.3."

Steel's jaw clenched. His smile from earlier vanished.

"Froststorm - 4.5."

Not bad. Respectable. She wasn't even in the room to hear it.

"And The Blacksmith…" Ms. Red paused, just for effect. "4.8."

Alfredo's eyes flicked sideways at Tanaka, who was doing his best not to smirk.

Laura stepped in quickly. "Fan approval ratings also dropped this morning. Public sentiment can matter more than a score."

She tapped the tablet, then read:

"Froststorm - 71%."

No surprise there.

"The Blacksmith - 61%."

He raised an eyebrow. Not bad for a first mission.

"Steel Alfredo - 69%."

Steel blinked.

Then grinned.

At least the people loved him more than they loved Tanaka.

Small victories. He'd take them.

For now.

"You still have a long way to go," Ms. Red said, pausing at the door. "If you're aiming for the top."

Her eyes swept across the boys one last time.

"Your mission bonuses will be wired to your accounts this afternoon," Laura added.

Ugh, yes- the money.

Tanaka nearly sighed aloud. He really needed that He'd send it to his father back home.

"If you've got questions, save them," Ms. Red said firmly. "We've got an important meeting to attend."

With that, the two women turned and exited, leaving a quiet hum of tension behind.

******************************************

Inside the Horizon Heroes HQ,Executive War Room

The moment Ms. Red and Laura stepped through the double doors, they entered a pressure chamber of raw power.

The air was thick, buzzing with the charged presence of metahumans at the top of the food chain. You could feel it, like static in your bones, or the tight air before a thunderstorm.

The long, polished obsidian table stretched across the room like a runway, and seated around it were Horizon's elite.

Each figure radiated their own distinct aura, some calm like sleeping dragons, others intense enough to make your skin itch.

No words yet. Just stares. Measuring. Calculating.

At the head of the table sat Valerio Crane, Horizon's Vice President. He wore a tailored dark suit so sharp it could cut, a pair of designer shades that hid everything, and a fat Cuban cigar smoldering between his fingers.

He exhaled slowly, a lazy swirl of smoke curling toward the ceiling.

"Is this everyone?" he asked, voice calm but laced with steel.

Laura gave a nod. "Everyone who's in the city."

Valerio smiled faintly, teeth like white knives.

"Good," he said. Then leaned forward, tapping ash into a tray shaped like a meteor crater.

"Let's begin. I've got some ass to chew."