Exposition (Cassidy)
Sinners. Everywhere Cassidy walked on this fractured planet, sinners left their marks. Their transgressions clung to them like shadows, whispering their wrongdoings to her soul. She couldn't blame them entirely; after all, sin did not conform to the laws of men. It was not tethered to their morality. What they deemed virtuous or wicked held no bearing to the unseen threads of the cosmos.
To her senses, sin was universal yet paradoxical. Robbing a man’s livelihood, though a human crime, paled next to a child tossing food in blind carelessness—it all registered as sin, equal in her eyes. She was haunted, not just by her own losses but by the relentless pull of awareness. The world weighed heavy on her shoulders, a cacophony of whispers she could never silence.
Despite the burden, Cassidy refrained from killing—for now. Her purpose was singular, her focus unyielding: find Afton.
He was the architect of her torment, the specter in her nightmares. He had destroyed her childhood, torn apart her family, and committed the ultimate sin of robbing her of her powers—an intimate theft that felt like the shredding of her very essence. Others had suffered by his hands, too, but by then, they had already fallen into despair, consumed by their grief. Cassidy, though, remained, her fire unextinguished, her pursuit unrelenting.
Tracing his path wasn’t difficult; the coward left faint traces even in his attempts to vanish. His allies—those who enabled his horrors willingly—were marked more deeply by their wrongdoings, their sins glowing like brands to her senses. Tracking them was almost effortless as long as they avoided the shelter of crowded cities. That was where their darkness could blend with the masses, making her task more arduous.
Her train of thought shattered as jets screamed across the sky above her. Cassidy’s brows furrowed. The military had become a thorn in her side, meddling in her hunt for Afton. He had poisoned their minds with lies, claiming that powers stemmed from some hidden genetic anomaly—a fabrication she despised. Powers, in truth, were the raw embodiment of the soul, sparked into existence by one’s most potent emotions.
Her powers, too, were born of emotions she knew too well: desperation and hatred. Her desperation granted her the brilliance of light, the freedom of flight, and the strength to move mountains. Hatred, however, was her darker gift. It manifested in her mastery of shadows—malleable darkness she could bend to her will, transform into weapons or shields, and wield to manipulate reality itself. Or at least it had, until William had taken that part of her, leaving her shadowless and bereft of memory about how he had done it.
“Maybe that’s why I won’t feel any regret,” Cassidy murmured, her voice cold and distant, her golden eyes fixed on the sleek, black gauntlets that enveloped her arms. They hummed with latent power, a stark reminder of all she still possessed. She disappeared in a pulse of light, reappearing atop one of the jets racing through the sky. Her right hand raised, and the faint glow in her palm intensified, swelling into the radiance of a newborn star. Without hesitation, she unleashed a searing yellow beam that pierced the cockpit, leaving the pilot slumped and lifeless.
Hovering mid-air, she watched as the jet veered and careened into the distance. A smirk danced across her lips before she turned her attention to the remaining planes. Energy pulsed through her, radiant beams slicing through the metallic wings with surgical precision. One jet erupted into flames, splitting in two before spiraling toward the earth below. A pilot managed to eject, his parachute unfurling like a desperate prayer against the infinite sky.
Cassidy’s gaze locked on him. The black-haired teen extended her hand, and in an instant, the pilot was wrenched through space, materializing within her iron grip. His frantic struggles amused her, even as her right hand clamped around his helmet. The soft crackling of the visor splintering under her strength was oddly satisfying. He fought harder, twisting and kicking to no avail.
“Too slow,” she muttered. Growing impatient, she flung him upward with a flick of her wrist. As his body tumbled through the air, a miniature star coalesced in her palm, its heat almost comforting. With a sharp throw, the star streaked toward him, and she teleported away before the ensuing explosion swallowed the sky.
A mile away, she stood motionless, watching the distant flare with a detached gaze. Cassidy’s eyes drifted to her hands, her fingers flexing unconsciously. For a fleeting moment, a genuine smile played on her lips.
She was broken, yes. A piece of her soul had been stolen, fracturing her sanity. But even in her madness, there was clarity. And though she knew the path she walked was shrouded in darkness, punishing sinners like him felt undeniably right.
She took a deep breath and turned her eyes to the horizon. “Detroit. Let’s see how the sinners fare there.”