The flickering neon sign of the laundromat cast long shadows across my face as I folded Sasha's soccer jersey. The scent of industrial-strength detergent filled the air, a far cry from the energizing ozone smell I was used to breathing on patrol. Being a pro hero, even a former one, didn't exempt you from the mundane chores of single parenthood. Especially after she left.
I tried not to think about it. About how weeks ago, the apartment had felt full of laughter and shared dreams, and now echoed with the quiet clicks of Sasha's video games and Natalya's ballet practice videos. About how Y/N's side of the closet remained hauntingly empty.
"Dad, are you even listening?" Sasha's voice, tinged with the impatient edge of a sixteen-year-old, snapped me back to reality. She leaned against the folding table, her auburn hair pulled into a messy ponytail. A stray strand, coated in a faint shimmer, stuck stubbornly to her cheek. Sticky Control, always a hazard around dust and discarded candy wrappers.
"Sorry, kiddo. Just… thinking." I forced a smile, hoping it looked less strained than it felt. "What's up?"
"Coach wants to meet with you after practice tomorrow. He said it's important. Something about tryouts for the regional team?"
My gut clenched. Regionals meant more travel, more expenses, and even less time for me to keep an eye on things. Still, Sasha lived and breathed soccer. I couldn't deny her that.
"Okay, I'll be there," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Natalya, a wisp of a girl with eyes that held an unusual spark of intelligence, materialized beside her sister. At twelve, she was already a prodigy, her movements as fluid and graceful as water. Right now, however, her brow was furrowed in concentration as she fiddled with a disassembled smartphone.
"Dad, I think I found something weird," she announced without preamble.
"Weird how?" I asked, used to her pronouncements. Natalya's quirk, Tech Control, allowed her to manipulate and understand any technology with uncanny ease. It also meant I was constantly fielding questions about things I barely understood myself.
"This phone… it's not registering properly. Like someone's blocking its signal, but not in a way I've ever seen before. And the data… it's encrypted with something way beyond commercial-grade software."
She held out the phone, a generic-looking model with a cracked screen. "I found it in the park, near the community center. Thought I could salvage some parts, but…"
The community center. Where Sasha practiced soccer. A cold knot formed in my stomach.
"Let me see that," I said, taking the phone. It felt heavier than it should. "Where exactly in the park did you find it?"
Natalya pointed with a precision that belied her age. "Near the back fence, by the old oak tree. There were some… disturbed patches of dirt, like someone had been digging."
Digging. Encrypted data. Blocked signals. It all screamed trouble. My old instincts, dormant for the past few weeks, flared to life.
"Okay, girls. Listen up. I need you to stay here tonight. I'm going to check something out."
Sasha groaned. "Seriously, Dad? Again? Can't you just… call the police or something?"
"This feels different, Sasha. Trust me. Natalya, can you try to trace where the phone was last used, before whoever dropped it?"
Natalya nodded, her fingers already dancing across the screen of her own tablet. "I'll try, but it's going to be difficult. The signal is completely scrambled."
I ruffled her hair. "Do your best. Sasha, make sure the doors are locked, and don't open them for anyone. I'll be back as soon as I can."
The laundromat seemed suddenly claustrophobic. I needed to move, to assess, to protect. Old habits died hard. I may not be patrolling the city streets anymore, but I would be damned if I let anything happen to my girls.
The park was eerily quiet under the pale moonlight. The swings creaked in the breeze, their shadows swaying like ghostly figures. I moved cautiously, every sense on high alert. It wasn't just the phone, and the encrypted data, it was the feeling I had in the pit of my stomach – a feeling I hadn't experienced since facing down some of the city's toughest villains.
I found the oak tree easily enough. The disturbed earth was even more obvious in person, a crude attempt at concealment. Kneeling, I brushed away the loose soil, revealing a small, metallic box buried just beneath the surface.
My heart pounded in my chest. This wasn't just some random discarded phone. This was a deliberate setup.
Suddenly, a high-pitched whine filled the air, followed by a blinding flash of light. I threw my arm up to shield my eyes, but it was too late. My vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness washed over me.
Before I could react, a figure emerged from the shadows. Tall and slender, cloaked in darkness, their face obscured by a high collar.
"Sero Hanta," the figure said, their voice distorted and echoing, "we've been expecting you."
"Who are you?" I demanded, struggling to regain my balance. The world swam around me.
"That's not important. What is important is that you understand… you were a loose end." The figure raised a hand, and a surge of energy crackled around it.
Loose end? What was going on?
My mind raced. This wasn't a simple mugging. They knew who I was, they knew my past. And they were prepared.
"What do you want?" I asked, stalling for time.
The figure chuckled, a chilling sound that echoed through the silent park. "We want to ensure that your… distractions… no longer interfere with our plans."
Distractions. Sasha and Natalya.
Rage surged through me, overriding the lingering effects of the flash. "You leave my daughters out of this!"
"That, Mr. Hanta, is entirely up to you." The figure advanced, energy coalescing in their hand. "Cooperate, and they remain unharmed. Refuse, and… well, let's just say your sticky tape won't be able to piece them back together."
My quirk, Tape, allowed me to extrude strong, adhesive tape from my elbows. It had saved countless lives, restrained villains, and even helped me build a pretty impressive fort for the girls once. But against whatever this person was wielding… it felt woefully inadequate.
I had a choice to make. Protect my daughters, or stand my ground and risk everything. It wasn't even a choice, really.
"Alright," I said, my voice tight with suppressed fury. "What do you want me to do?"
The figure smiled, a cruel, predatory expression that sent a shiver down my spine. "Excellent. Now, let's talk about the data on that phone..."
That night, as I walked away from the park, my head filled with promises I never intended to keep, I knew one thing for sure: This was just the beginning. I had to protect Sasha and Natalya, and I would do whatever it took to keep them safe, even if it meant facing down an enemy far more dangerous than anything I had ever encountered as a pro hero. The game had changed, and this time, the stakes were everything.