“Where’s our next target?”

Cikizwa heaved a sigh. She sat in the back of the jet with the Nemesis crew. They hadn’t spoken a word, save for Saydaa’s question.

“Home. We’re taking a breather.”

Saydaa narrowed her eyes.

“We can’t. We have to keep going. I need to…”

“What you need to do is rest. You all have been fighting for a while now, and Bob will kill me if one of you dies because you got sleep-deprived. So we’re going home. You want to get out there again? Then get to sleep as soon as we land.”

Saydaa crossed her arms and looked at her feet, saying no more. Cikizwa sighed again.

Seriously, she did not become an intelligence specialist to deal with moody children.

A few hours later, Kiyosuke opened his eyes. And frowned.

Something was off.

He checked his body and found everything normal. No disruptions to his chakra, which had recovered while he slept. And those bestial monsters couldn’t land a single blow on him regardless.

So what was it?

He found he couldn’t sleep any longer, so he sighed and stood up. Might as well get some training in. As he walked towards the training room, he heard hissing and thudding noises. Well, Nana practically lived in the firing range, so that was normal. Still, he glanced over to double check.

It was Saydaa.

She was swinging her arms, lobbing balls of red energy through the air, slamming into targets. She was breathing heavily, but grit her teeth and lit up another ball.

And then it struck him, what was different about today.

No one skulking outside his door.

No magical pitfalls or invisible needles waiting along his path.

No pebbles flying at him or branches extending to grasp at his ankles.

No angry hornets filling his room.

No illusions at the edge of his vision.

No voices constantly grating upon his ears, or sometimes within his mind.

No nightmarish dreams with spiders crawling in his eyes.

No disruptions of any sort.

He frowned. For some reason…he was annoyed. It was important to train his awareness, to always remain on guard. He could not allow anything to interfere with his training.

“Hey.”

She spun about, grimacing.

“Go away, jerk.”

And she turned away, lobbing another ball at a target. Kiyosuke frowned.

“Stop that.”

She froze.

“What? Stop training? Why, because your feelings are going to get hurt that I’m working harder than you? Screw you, Kiyosuke. Leave me alone.”

“That’s not like you. It’s annoying.”

“You’re annoying!”

He flickered in front of her and tapped her forehead. She stumbled back and fell on her butt.

“See, you can barely stand.”

His eyes widened, barely moving his head to the side as a red blast shot towards his face.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

And she ran from the room. Kiyosuke crossed his arms, frowning once more.

This was very…annoying.

It was nighttime in London but it wasn’t at all quiet. Sirens and the occasional explosion could be heard in the distance.

Handing out powers to the denizens of the night was not a recipe for quiet.

And it was precisely for that reason that one particular group made their way towards the stone halls of the British Museum.

One man led the group, with black chitinous legs and black antennae on his head.

“I’m just saying, Boss, you got powers now! Why are we tip-toeing around just to steal some dusty, old relics? I mean, I get why it was easier in the past, but why don’t we just hop on over to the bank these days?”

The leader smacked the speaker over the head.

“Idiot! Use your brain for once! Obviously, that’s the first thought literally every thug’s going to have! Which means every thug in the city who has powers now is making their way to the closest bank! So guess where the heroes are going to be?”

“...t-the bank?”

“That’s right! I might be the Dynamic Cricket, but I still don’t want to get in the ring with Captain Hot Devil! Besides, we are not thieves, we are reclaimers! We are only taking back what was stolen in the first place!”

“Then why do we sell them on the black market?”

The Dynamic Cricket averted his gaze.

“G-Good deeds deserve rewarding, right? B-Besides, we sell them back to the people who they original belonged to. Probably. Possibly. Maybe…e-enough of this! We got a job to do, so let’s get in and out while all the idiots are running distraction for us!”

One of the men on the side of the group heaved a sigh. When he signed up for the most notorious band of thieves and treasure hunters…he expected something a bit…different.

The group made their way to the side of the building. The Dynamic Cricket began to rub his legs together, producing the distinctive chirping sound of his namesake. The group could see as small dots began leaping towards the entrance of the museum.

The crickets made their way towards the security center, where a bored guard was taking a nap. A bunch of them jumped onto the console, and switched it off.

Outside the Dynamic Cricket smiled.

“We’re in.”

The group opened up a side door and made their way into the museum.

The group traveled quietly and efficiently. Each individual knew where to go, where to stop, and what they were supposed to do. One hacked into the security system on a laptop, making sure the cameras and alarms stayed off. Another checked ahead for any guards and patrols.

However they acted ahead of the job, once it began they demonstrated their expertise.

And so they swiftly and silently came into the Middle Eastern exhibits, approaching a pedestal holding a stone tablet. They quietly unlocked the glass doors, the Dynamic Cricket gently lifting the tablet with glove-covered hands and placing it in a cushioned briefcase. Once the case was locked up, he nodded at the group, and they made their way out of the museum.

The group was marching through the lawn of the museum when they heard a woman’s voice.

“Well well well, got a tip someone was making a nice score tonight. Looks like it was good after all.”

Another group of men strode across the lawn, facing the Dynamic Cricket’s group.

“Hand it over and no one has to get hurt, savvy?”

The Dynamic Cricket let out a dramatic sigh.

“Hi Evelyn, nice to see you.”

He spread out his hands.

“As you can see, I’m a bit different now. It’s not going to go how it usually does.”

Evelyn tossed a baseball bat in the air before grabbing it and knocking it against the ground. A faint blue glow surrounded it for a moment and Evelyn grinned.

“You’re not the only one, Rufus. Now hand it over, you were never any good in a fight.”

The Dynamic Cricket chirped once more. A swarm of crickets leapt into the air, covering Evelyn’s group. Evelyn herself jumped and flailed wildy with her bat.

“Let’s go!”

The Dynamic Cricket’s group made a run for it. Evelyn shook her head, snarling as she smacked at the crickets when she noticed.

“After them!”

The Dynamic Cricket’s group nodded and split up, each heading in a different direction. Evelyn’s group did likewise, chasing after them. The Dynamic Cricket crouched down and leapt high into the air, clearing a building in one go. And then he cleared another. And another. On and on until he reached the regroup point. He stopped for a moment to rest on the side of an alley, breathing hard.

And a dart struck his neck and he dropped to the ground.

A masked figure stepped into the alleyway, carrying a dart gun and a briefcase. He swapped cases with the Dynamic Cricket and walked away, dialing a number on his phone.

“Hey Bob, I got it.”

“Good work, I’m heading out then.”

Chris glanced back at the Dynamic Cricket on the ground.

“You sure it’s ok to leave him? Rufus isn’t a bad guy, after all, hate to see what Evelyn will do to him without the tablet.”

“He’ll be fine, Evelyn doesn’t care about the tablet. She’ll be grateful for the cash.”

“And if he manages to escape?”

“He’ll also be grateful for the cash. Buyer won’t be but Rufus is a survivor, he’ll be fine.”

“Makes sense. Wonder who the buyer is though?”

“If we’re lucky, some greedy collector.”

“And if we’re not?”

“Someone who knows the truth behind the legends.”

A man in a black hood knelt in a dark room, illuminated only by wooden torches. Another robed figure approached and bowed.

“Master, we have received word that the thief has failed. And the tablet…is lost.”

The man nodded.

“I suppose that is what we can expect from ruffians and scoundrels.”

“Master, what are we going to do? How can we succeed without the tablet?”

The man rubbed his chin. He stood and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Can you feel it?”

“Master?”

“The fools lock treasures away and display them to the masses. They do not know what they possess, for none now live who remember it. But that path is not the only one before us. The world has changed. I hear it in the ground. I feel it in the air.”

He crossed his arms behind his back, opening his eyes.

“If we can figure out how, and why, then perhaps, we too can change the world. And achieve our great dream.”