Nightwalker fell down to her eye level, met her gaze and said, "Do you still feel something?"

Kate remained frozen for a brief second. Unsure if she had just heard correctly.

Nightwalker slightly tilted his head to the left, face bloodridden but he gestured with a child-like innocence. "Don't tell me you still feel something?"

Her eyes were peeled open, frozen in place—plane still above her.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "There are still a lot more humans we can kill until you feel nothing... Hey, how bout your daughter?"

"..."

"...!"

Kate's face scrunched up as she gripped the sides of the plane hard, lifted slightly above and away from Nightwalker, then used the plane as a bat to slap him out of the sky.

She tossed the plane aside, completely overcome with rage at the mention of her daughter's name.

The impact from the plane hit thrusted him through several buildings, lined up across another—tipping them over and completely destroying the city.

When his momentum seemed to slow she'd follow closely behind him and help push her along—punch after punch.

"...!"

Until he finally hit the ground, Nightwalker was fighting anymore. In his mind, he'd already won this.

He'd destroyed her in every single way he could, broken her ideals, shattered her hope and most importantly, made her beg.

Now? With her destroying the city with his body, he just enjoyed the ride with a smile on his face.

But that wasn't enough. He already knew this fight was coming, it was obvious, and the ultimate way to destroy her—make the world hate her.

He watched as Spectra was gradually lowering herself down to him, engulfed in a green light that felt almost serene in the moonlit rain.

He got back down and pummeled him for as long and as hard as she could—blood splattered across her suit, face and the rock around them.

He wasn't fighting back anymore, just laughing—and it was infuriating.

"Fight me!!" She screamed, looking at his disfigured face. "You wanted a fight, right?! Well, here I am. Fight me!!!"

"..."

She wasn't even sure if Nightwalker was conscious anymore—his eyes were swollen shut, his face too scattered and bloody to make anything out.

But he, shakily, raised a finger by his side. She watched the finger, unsure what he was doing.

His finger, eventually, fully extended to the sky.

Then the lights came, three floodlights from the news helicopters circling them above shot alive, with all they centred on them.

On Spectra, drenched in blood, who was above Nightwalker, in his boxer briefs, beaten to within an inch of his life—in the wreck of a destroyed city.

She knew how this looked, Nightwalker knew how this looked, wait a minute... Did he orchestrate this entire thing?

She could already tell the stations were going to jump into conclusions, but she could explain... Right?

——BREAKING NEWS!!

She whipped her head in the direction of the jumbotron that just turned on, it glitched slightly but she could make out the main headline.

'ANOMALY SPOTTED: SPECTRA TURNED ANOMALY.'

"What?" She muttered under her breath, chest heaving in and out. "W— What are they talking about?"

She focused on the jumbotron more intensely...

It displayed a video when she flew into the sky to catch the plane but, 'conveniently,' left out the part where Nightwalker shot the lasers.

The scene continued where she'd used the plane as a weapon to swat Nightwalker away—again, leaving out where he'd killed everyone on the plane.

The reporter returned—middle aged man in a blue suit and an uneasy expression, most likely from what he just watched.

"There you have it folks," he announced. "Our beloved Spectra is now a monster and on a rampage..."

The image changed to the helicopter's view as they circled her bloody form, and how Nightwalker laid lifelessly nearby.

The reporter's voice returned. "News coming in is that she'd destroyed most of the city because Nightwalker showed up and tried to stop her... And then she'd completely destroyed him too.

If you're in the city, Astrea. Run, and make the Lord help us all."

The screen went off in the next second, she continued to stare completely in disarray.

'What the fuck is happening?'

"Hahaha~!" A low weaving laugh escaped Nightwalker's throat. "Th— The people you've tr— tried so hard to protect, right?" Each word came with immerse effort, yet he continued. "Be— Because humans a— are fucking puppets. They have no loyalty, and you picked the wrong side."

Before she could respond, or not, figures were surrounding her—multiple figures.

She turned around as they fully emerged from hiding. Some were V.A.L.O.R soldiers—fully armed and really to fire at any slight movement, the others were heroes government and private sector heroes.

Some of whom she'd partnered, and fought along side, with for the past five years—and here they were surrounding her like she was a villain.

Someone with a speaker stepped slightly forward, clearly taking all the necessary precautions when dealing with an anomaly this high of a rank.

"I need you to put your hands in the air and lower yourself to your knees."

And that was more confusing than anything else in this entire night.

Anomalies were smart but they were self-sufficient, they'd never barely ever replied and would often just cause damage and want to kill.

So for them to ask her this, does it mean they knew she wasn't really an anomaly?

No. Nothing was confirmed yet. She could tell them all the truth—these were still her colleagues.

She stepped forward gaining the flinch of all the heroes, and the intensified grip of their rifles from the soldiers.

"I'm still Spectra," she said softly, gesturing at her bloodstained suit. "I'm still the same person—" gesturing towards Nightwalker on the floor. "—he attacked me first. He killed my husband, he's killed everyone."

Maybe. Just maybe. If she wasn't covered with blood, drenched in rain, standing in a wreck of a city and above the most powerful man they knew, in his draws, they'd have believed her.

The man's voice remained cold. "You have five seconds to get on your knees before we open fire—"

"No!" She snapped. "I promise you, I'm fine." She tried to use her red hand to wipe her face and seem more presentable, but it only got worse.

"Y— You see." Nightwalker groaned in the corner. "I told you there are two ways to be a God, either to be feared or loved.

There's, however, one concept that hangs above them both. Optics.

I might be beaten, but what everyone will take from today is the fact that Spectra is now a monster.

Don't play mind games with someone who creates them, sweetheart."

"You bastard!" She turned back to punch him again before—

~Pffft! Pffft! Pffft!~

A storm of darts shot into her back before she could lift a fist, she staggered and struggled with her eyelids to stay vertical.

With her eyelids failing, she swept across the plain and landed on Nightwalker.

She fell to the ground as she heard his words echo in her ears. "Checkmate, sweetheart."

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