Disturbance

The incident happened so suddenly that panic spread like a plague through the vast underground mall, throwing everything into chaos in the blink of an eye. Customers from one direction fled and shoved as if they'd seen the most terrifying demon in the world, abandoning all pretense of gentlemanly or ladylike decorum driven by sheer survival instinct.

The holiday crowd had already packed the mall to capacity, and within moments, every exit was clogged solid. At that critical instant, all the ceiling lights went out with a simultaneous pop, plunging the entire underground into pitch darkness. Darkness has always been a fertile breeding ground for fear, and the total blackness robbed everyone of their sense of direction, sending them scattering like headless flies.

People began lighting their way with the limited glow of phone flashlights, and the crowd started moving toward the exits using that faint illumination, but it did nothing to restore order. A faint haze of dust hung in the air, and people from one direction kept stampeding in a unified path, like a raging current.

From the direction the crowd was fleeing came intermittent, eerie growls, as if some ferocious beast was slaughtering everything in its path. The sound in the darkness gave one the unsettling illusion of being locked in a cage with a dinosaur. Jay shielded Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds as they quickly retreated toward the Emergency Exit, when suddenly he heard a sharp whoosh of wind—the sound of an object slicing through the air at high speed.

Jay raised his hand and caught it. It was a stainless steel pot lid, rapidly deforming under immense force. Even Jay was slightly surprised by the sheer power behind it.

Though curious about what was causing the commotion over there, his priority was to get Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds to safety. He tossed the crumpled pot lid aside and led the two of them swiftly through the crowd.

Mrs. Reynolds gripped her son's hand tightly in the dark, asking anxiously, "Jay, Jay, where are we going?"

"The Emergency Exit," Jay replied calmly. "It's just ahead."

The disturbance in the distance continued, with jagged cracks spreading recklessly across the ceiling. Debris and dust rained down like a storm, shrouding the darkness in a thick haze. Out of the corner of his eye, Jay spotted a little girl in the chaotic crowd, overlooked by the adults. She looked about eight or nine, sitting on the ground and sobbing quietly. The rapidly spreading cracks crept silently above her head as the ceiling gave way, broken pipes and chunks of rubble tangled with wires plummeting toward her.

Without a second thought, Jay's instincts made the decision for him. He pulled his hand abruptly from Mrs. Reynolds' grip, left a quick "Wait for me," and shot off like a whirlwind. Mrs. Reynolds called his name in panic, but in the darkness, she couldn't see a thing.

Jay blurred into a streak of motion, appearing directly above the little girl. He spread his arms to shield her, using his own back as a protective umbrella. Rubble and debris smashed against him, but he seemed to feel nothing.

The girl stopped crying, staring wide-eyed at the Black Figure in front of her. She asked, "Are you Superman?"

Jay paused. "Uh, why do you think that?"

"Mommy said Superman comes back when you need him."

"I'm not... I'm not Superman."

Just then, a woman's voice rang out from the chaotic crowd behind them, frantic and urgent: "Jessie! Where are you? Can someone help? Has anyone seen my daughter Jessie?"

"Mommy!" The little girl scrambled to her feet and shouted, "I'm here!"

Jay followed the sound and quickly spotted the anxious mother in the crowd. He hoisted the girl up, blurred into motion, and swiftly brought her to her mother's side.

"Mommy!" The girl cried out, throwing herself into her mother's arms. The young mother's eyes were red as she hugged her daughter tightly, as if she'd never let go.

Jay silently slipped back into the darkness and quickly rejoined Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds. They were still waiting where he'd left them, and when he returned, they asked nothing, simply following him onward.

When they reached the Emergency Exit door, Mr. Reynolds grabbed the handle and turned it twice. "It's locked," he said in frustration.

Jay stepped forward, wrenched the entire lock off with one twist, and kicked the door open, revealing the equally pitch-black Emergency Exit beyond. Climbing the stairs ahead would lead directly to the ground-level exit.

But just as he was about to leave the mall with Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds, he hesitated. He glanced back instinctively at the panicked crowd in the dark underground mall, the image of that helpless little girl flashing through his mind, along with the sight of her mother crying tears of joy at their reunion.

It wasn't about having the resolve to be a hero. Sometimes, tragedy happens right in front of you, and you happen to have the ability to change it—so you just can't stand by and do nothing.

Noticing he'd stopped, Mrs. Reynolds asked, "What's wrong?"

Jay took a deep breath and turned back. "Sorry, Mom, Dad. Go on ahead. I just remembered something I need to do. I'll catch up soon, I promise."

With that, he left them and turned back without hesitation, disappearing into the pitch-black mall.

At the same time, outside the underground mall.

Police arrived on the scene and set up a perimeter around the entire underground mall. Patrol cars blocked every exit, and a large number of officers cordoned off the surrounding area, standing by.

Holch was the detective in charge of this operation. He'd worked at the Metropolitan Police Department for over thirty years and had personally experienced a series of bizarre incidents, from lab monster rampages to alien invasions—most of which became tall tales he'd boast about to new recruits.

The orders from above were rather odd this time. They only told him that an unexplained disturbance had broken out in the underground mall, with civilians trapped inside, but instructed him to simply seal off the entrances and hold position.

Holch asked about the civilians' safety—shouldn't they at least attempt a rescue? His superiors were vague, saying that higher agencies would send professionals trained to handle such matters, and they just needed to wait.

Holch's second cigarette had burned to the filter. He tossed the butt to the ground, crushed it under his shoe, and checked his watch impatiently. Whoever this "professional" from above was, they were late. Holch was already thinking that if no one showed up in three more minutes, he'd take matters into his own hands and lead his men in.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the roar of a motorcycle engine reached his ears. A modified dark purple motorcycle leaped like a spirited stallion, soaring over the roofs of a row of police cars with a thunderous rev. It landed sideways, executing a flawless, spectacular drift to a stop. Tires screeched against the pavement, and the rider's black hair whipped in the wind.

The rider pulled off her helmet, shaking out a cascade of jet-black hair, and swung a pair of perfectly sculpted, unforgettable long legs off the bike. She wore a cropped Purple Uniform, a purple mask covering half her face, revealing only a gracefully defined jawline. Sharp, keen blue eyes gleamed from behind the mask, like those of a cunning hunter.

Holch froze. He never expected the "professional" from above to be a woman with such a striking figure. He thought she'd look more at home at a masquerade ball.

"Good work, Detective," the woman said coolly, stepping forward with confidence. "I'll take it from here."