(Another barista grabs the TV remote and opens the television for the other guests, switching to a news channel. Flare momentarily glances at the TV and is shocked when she sees blurry yet fairly discernible photos of her and Focus. The other customers immediately turn to her in shock upon glancing at the TV, seeing her glances at the news in shock as well.)
Male Anchor: (serious) Breaking: authorities say the people behind yesterday’s violent events are outside the capabilities of standard police response. We go to Mira Santos live.
Female Reporter: (transitioning to her, with blurry photos of Flare and Focus displayed) This has rapidly escalated. Investigators tell us the behaviors and abilities observed yesterday left local forces overwhelmed. Because of that, the local government and a private emergency coalition have stepped in — and are now offering a $100,000 reward for verified information leading to these individuals. Officials emphasize these images are intentionally blurred because they represent ongoing surveillance. The coalition running the reward has also set up a secure tip portal and 24-hour hotline — that contact is on your screen now. (with the hotline displayed) If you recognize either person or have footage, upload it to the portal or call the hotline. Do not attempt citizen arrests — these people are considered extremely dangerous and unpredictable. We’ll continue to monitor official briefings and bring you confirmed updates. Back to you.
Male Anchor: (transitioning back to him) Thanks, Mira. We’ll keep our viewers posted.
(One of the customers grabs the remote from a barista and turns off the TV with a stern expression, having seen enough, then he sets the remote on the table and glances at Flare along menacingly with the others. Elsewhere, a man — apparently in his late-forties — with short black hair and brown eyes, wearing a sleek black suit while accompanied by a group of guards, walks through a hallway and to a door, with a guard stepping up to open it for him. He enters an office while carrying himself with great composure, meeting up with Commander Cromwell, who sits in her office and glances at him with a stern expression. Unbothered by this, he takes his seat.)
Commander Locke: (firmly) You requested my audience, commander.
Commander Cromwell: (sternly) I’ll get to the point. What’s with the bounty that you placed on our agent?
Commander Locke: Pay attention to the details. I’m also placing a bounty on the Surge Beacon that has been causing you trouble for this little while.
Commander Cromwell: Don’t switch the subject. You know what I mean.
Commander Locke: If it’s the bounty that’s got you upset, you should know that it’s only to draw more attention to the targets. And you should also know that you’re in no position to berate me for what I did. It was you who failed.
Commander Cromwell: (gritting her teeth) I concede to that, but what makes you think that we needed your agency to intervene?
Commander Locke: (narrowing his eyes) Must I remind you once again, commander, that Aegis has never been acknowledged by the government? Your actions have always been placed under scrutiny, and the incident ten years ago has only amplified that. If it weren’t for your continued services, your agency could’ve been shut down, and you would end up in jail. There will come a time where you’d end up failing to provide, and given the recent events, it doesn’t seem so far-fetched anymore.
Commander Cromwell: (grimacing) What’re you hinting at?
Commander Locke: (firmly) That it’s time for you to step down. Your services are no longer required, and you will face the consequences of your failure.
Commander Cromwell: (sighing deeply) If that’s how it’s gonna be, then fine. You’ll end up realizing the magnitude of this situation soon enough… commander.
Commander Locke: I doubt so. You better hope that your agent is well-trained enough to handle what’s coming for him.
Commander Cromwell: (faintly smirking) It’s not him I’m worried about.
(Commander Locke dismissively grunts at this as he heads out of Commander Cromwell’s office, his guards opening the door from outside for him, and the latter grimaces following that icy confrontation. Meanwhile, as Commander Locke walks through the hallway of Aegis Headquarters with his group of guards, he receives a call and quickly picks up, as if expecting it and immediately recognizing the caller.)
Commander Locke: (via phone, firmly) Gauntlet. Any updates?
Gauntlet: (via phone, smirking) We managed to get a strong lead concerning the whereabouts of the Terrible Twos. We’re examining the surrounding area at the moment.
Commander Locke: (raising an eyebrow) Hold on. Terrible Twos?
Gauntlet: (unamused) What? You’re expecting me to just flat out refer to them as “the Aegis operator and the Surge Beacon”. I mean, come on. That just sounds like a tongue twister.
Commander Locke: (sighing deeply, then firmly) Anyway, you must get to it immediately. Update me whenever possible. Understood?
Gauntlet: (nonchalantly) Yeah, yeah, sure.
(Commander Locke hangs up and continues walking through the hallway, his firm expression unwavering. Elsewhere, a young man in his early thirties with straight black hair and a bit of facial hair with hazel eyes stands at the top of a plateau. He wears a sleek grey jacket underneath a plain black shirt, with futuristic shoes and a pair of gauntlets, and he reaches for a communicator on his wrist to link up with one of many groups of soldiers.)
Gauntlet: (via communicator) You said that you’ve got a lead on the targets, correct?
Soldier 1A: (via communicator) It’s close to our location. We’re heading there to investigate now. It’s likely that they’ve taken a stop somewhere around.
Gauntlet: (to the other soldiers, grinning) You hear that, boys? We’re all heading there, see if we can catch up. Now let’s roll.
(Meanwhile, Flare chuckles nervously as the customers glance at her. It’s then that Flare actually notices that almost all of the other customers have well-toned bodies, making them even more trouble. She quickly nudges Focus, who is still obliviously crossing his arms with his eyes closed while sitting beside her.)
Flare: (muttering, to Focus) Hey, snap out of it!
Focus: (opening his eyes once again, baffled) What? Did the coffee arrive that early?
Flare: (frustrated) Forget about the coffee! Look!
(Focus looks around and sees all of the customers surrounding them, possibly with malicious intent. However, upon realizing that, he simply goes back to his previous state without a care in the world, further provoking the bystanders, with one of them approaching Focus while cracking his knuckles, a smirk on his face.)
Mob Member 1A: (slyly grinning) You two are in some serious trouble, aren’t ya?
Focus: (muttering to himself) You’re the one who’s asking for it.
Mob Member 1A: We’ve heard about the fuss you two caused. I don’t really think you’re worth all that hype, though. You cause a bit of noise on the streets, and suddenly, you’re the talk of the town. It’s frustrating, really, how easily people can draw attention to themselves.
Focus: (calmly muttering, crossing his arms with his eyes closed) A coffee bar in the middle of nowhere and coincidentally intersecting with our route. That surely sounded too good to be true. Of course it’ll be trouble waiting to happen. (to the mob member) Whaddaya want? If it’s about the bounty, then please don’t get yourself involved in this.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Flare: (muttering in annoyance) So you did hear everything!
Focus: (unamused, turning to Flare) What? How oblivious do you think I am?
Flare: If it’s about coffee, then you wouldn’t have a care in the world!
Focus: (blankly) I don’t have a care in the world anyway.
Flare: And how the heck did we end up with a bounty on our heads?!
Focus: (flatly) You say that as if you’re not a trigger-happy pyromaniac and I’m not a superhuman secret agent. (sarcastically placing a hand on his chin to contemplate) What possibly could it be? Why are there so many people after us, I wonder? We can’t possibly have attracted so much attention. After all, we’re the most normal bunch of — .
Flare: (annoyed) Okay, okay, you’ve made your point!
(The mob member glances at Flare and Focus in bafflement as they keep having their conversation, as if he’s not even there, further provoking him, and he angrily clenches his fists through gritted teeth and slams the table with his fist. Focus glances at him with an unamused expression, his conversation with Flare having been abruptly cut off, then he glances away once again.)
Focus: (rolling his eyes) You again. Oh, please. It’s not the table’s fault that you’re hardly relevant.
Mob Member 1A: (gritting his teeth) Look at me when I’m talking to you, punk.
Focus: (glancing back at him, unamused) There you go. Does that make you any feel better? No? Then get lost. Didn’t the news reporter warn against citizen arrests anyway?
Mob Member 1A: (his grin returning) But I’m no citizen.
(The mob member signals for the other men to join in, and they pull out their baseball bats and daggers, with others getting ready to throw down with their bare hands. Flare grits her teeth as she glances around at this, but Focus is barely fazed, and he simply glances back at the mob member with an unamused expression.)
Focus: Noted. Now please return to your seats, everyone, and enjoy your coffee. This is a sacred site of serenity and peace of mind.
Mob Member 1A: (gritting his teeth) What the hell are you rambling about, kid?!
Focus: (his voice getting sterner) That’s the third time I’ve been condescendingly referred to as a kid in the space of two days. Take it back before you get what’s coming. It didn’t end well for the last two.
Mob Member 1A: (chuckling, subtly reaching out for a dagger in his pocket) Let’s see you act so smug when I slice you up and take home that paycheck.
(The mob member swings his dagger at Focus, but to his shock, he doesn’t end up striking his face as expected, with Focus dodging that advance with minimal movement, still crossing his hands with his eyes closed. The mob member attempts another swing with his dagger, but Focus puts his hands on his pockets, quickly gets off his chair, and kicks it at the man’s gut, sending him skidding back. The mob members react in shock as they see Focus standing before them, and Flare — immediately understanding what’s about to go down — stands up beside Focus with a smirk.)
Focus: (unbothered) Listen up. I estimate that my coffee will arrive in about three minutes and forty-seven seconds from now, and time flows rather excruciatingly slowly when I’m waiting for coffee. (his eyes narrowing) I might as well put that time into good use.
(This horrifies the mob members, with one of them clenching his fists through gritted teeth. He lunges at Focus for a punch, but the latter headbutts his fist and sends him skidding back, then he kicks him in the gut and sends him crashing into a wall. Another one pulls out a baseball bat and swings it at Flare, and she knocks it off of his hand with a kick, to his shock. He then swings his fist at her, but she roundhouses him in the face, sending him flying. Meanwhile, Focus keeps nonchalantly dodging several mob members’ advances with his hands in his pockets, to their frustration.)
Mob Member 1B: (frustrated) Stop toying with us!
Focus: (flatly) What? I’m being the most serious I can possibly be.
(Focus dodges another blow then kicks a mob member in the gut, sending him flying. He then headbutts another in the chest and follows that with a roundhouse kick, all without pulling his hands out of his pockets. Flare punches one of the mob members in the face, but she narrowly dodges a dagger from another one of them. She glances at him with a shocked expression and sees him extending his dagger at her with a smirk.)
Mob Member 1C: (grinning) Don’t worry, kid. Nothin’ fatal. I might still need you alive to collect the paycheck.
(The mob member lunges at her with the dagger, and she jumps out of the way through gritted teeth then throws a chair at him, but he knocks it out of the way with ease. She lunges at him for a blow and dodges his fist, then she lands a punch at his face, sending him only skidding back a bit. She lunges at him for another blow, but he slaps her with the back of his hand and sends her crashing into a wall. The mob member approaches her, dagger in hand, and she glances at him with a horrified expression.)
Flare: (horrified) Stay away!
(Blurry memories of a man holding a pitchfork flood her mind at this moment, further horrifying her. With no hesitation whatsoever, almost as if she hasn’t thought it through, she launches a burst of fire at the approaching mob member, sending him flying, to Focus’s shock.)
Focus: (thinking to himself, shocked) She used her Surge?! Against them?! Really?!
(Before the mob member regains his balance, Flare propels herself at him using the flames coming from her legs and punches him in the gut with a fiery fist through gritted teeth, sending him crashing into a wall and knocking him unconscious. This horrifies the other remaining mob members, who get to see for themselves what Flare is all about. Focus makes use of that and quickly kicks one of the mob members in the gut then headbutts him, knocking him unconscious as well.)
Mob Member 1D: (panickedly) Screw this! I’ve got families!
(The last two remaining mob members head for the door in a bid to make a run for it, but Focus opts not to spare them and dropkicks the two of them in the nape, acrobatically regaining his footing as those two fall unconscious on the ground. Flare and Focus glance around at the aftermath of this scuffle, seeing the coffee bar all messed up, with several chairs knocked to the ground and several broken tables. Focus notices the barista who grabbed his order standing at the counter in shock, trembling as he holds two cups of coffee. Focus promptly heads for him and grabs the two cups, handing one to Flare and sipping on the other. However, upon taking a sip, he glances at the barista menacingly.)
Focus: (menacingly) You pulled it out at 26 seconds, didn’t you?
(Focus punches the barista, sending him crashing through the window and out of the coffee bar, then he and Flare promptly step out of the coffee bar as well, each holding their own cup of coffee, with Flare being particularly unamused about the whole matter.)
Flare: (unamused) You’re quite picky, aren’t you?
Focus: Oh, please. You wouldn’t understand how much of a significant dip in quality this mere second of rushed production represents. I’ll have to settle for this cup of painful mediocrity thanks to this poorly educated piece of human ineptitude. If he had completed this formula to perfection, maybe you would’ve gotten to like coffee.
Flare: And why do you care so much about that?
Focus: (deadpan) Because the fact that someone out there despises this transient drink of heavenly glory is genuinely beyond human comprehension and seems like something that must be fixed at once.
(However, as the two head for their car, they notice a group of four armored vehicles approaching far at the horizon, and they react with wary expressions. Focus notices an armed individual in the passenger’s seat of the leading vehicle using a pair of binoculars to observe them, and he also notices the white eagle emblem at the front of the car, immediately identifying his pursuers through gritted teeth.)
Focus: (gritting his teeth) The Ironclad Response Unit.
Flare: (baffled) The Ironclad Response what now?
Focus: (urgently, opening the passenger door to Flare and handing her his cup of coffee) Get inside the car! Now! I’m taking the wheel!
(Flare notices the urgency in Focus’s tone and immediately gets inside and into the passenger seat, with Focus quickly shutting the door behind her and heading for the driver’s seat. He takes the wheel and immediately sets foot on the pedal, heading out into the highway in a rush, anticipating a potential chase. The passenger of the leading car puts down his pair of binoculars, having finally detected the duo.)
IRU Soldier 1A: (firmly, via communicator) Confirmed visual on the targets. Moving in to pursue.
Gauntlet: (via communicator, smirking) Guess you guys weren’t beating around the bush after all. We’re moving in to provide backup. If you can’t capture them on your own, at least try not to lose ’em.
IRU Soldier 1B: (firmly) Understood, sir.
(Another armored vehicle accelerates as it heads after Flare and Focus, with one of the soldiers in the backseat opening the window while pulling out a rocket launcher. He peeks out the window while aiming his rocket launcher exactly at the wheels of Flare and Focus’s car, and the two notice that from the mirror, reacting with flabbergasted expressions.)
Flare: (flabbergasted) HOLY MOTHER OF OVERKILL!
(The IRU soldier fires the rocket launcher right at the wheels of the car, and Flare immediately peeks out of the window and uses a fireball to blow up the projectile, but due to its close proximity, the explosion causes Focus to momentarily lose control of the car as it lurches forwards, though he stabilizes it regardless. Flare lights up her palms with fire as she sees the four armored vehicles keeping up with them, anticipating their next move, while Focus grits his teeth and he accelerates even further in an attempt to lose their pursuers. Elsewhere, Gauntlet sits comfortably in an armored vehicle, crossing his arms with a smirk as the vehicle heads for Flare and Focus’s location as well, and then he links up with Commander Locke through his phone.)
Gauntlet: (via phone, grinning) Stay tuned, commander. We’ll have some good news coming for you. We’ve got visual on the targets.
Commander Locke: (via phone, faintly smirking) That’s what I like to hear. Now get the job done… Gauntlet.
Gauntlet: I always do.
(Gauntlet promptly ends the call, waiting in anticipation as a few more groups of armored vehicles head for the duo to double down on them. Flare and Focus have got a new enemy in their tail, and it’s none other than the Ironclad Response Unit.)
