A safe house on the outskirts of New York.
The news was on TV, and the anchorwoman wore a solemn expression.
"A devastating plane crash has occurred over the Atlantic Ocean."
"Flight 137 went down, with none of its more than a hundred passengers surviving."
The footage changed.
The Deep stood on a beach strewn with debris, dressed in his green uniform, his eyes red.
"I'm sorry to say that I found the mayor's plane. It was two miles down, at the bottom of Hudson Canyon."
"We did our best, but we arrived too late."
He lowered his head and wiped the corners of his eyes. His voice trembled, and his shoulders shook.
"There were no survivors on the plane. If I'd been a little earlier, I might have been able to save them. We failed them."
Chen Mo sank into the couch, drinking a beer, his lips curling into a mocking smile.
"What a performance."
"Oscar owes him a little golden statue."
Allen sat in front of the computer, the light from the screen illuminating his face, which was full of shock and regret.
"The mayor's plane crashed? Even The Deep couldn't find any survivors? Was it really that bad?"
Chen Mo drained the last of his beer, crushed the empty can into a flat disc, and tossed it into the trash.
"It was pretty bad."
"Homelander did it himself, after all. One blast from his laser eyes, and it'd be hard for it not to be."
Allen's hands stopped over the keyboard, and his face went pale.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
"He brought the plane down from the sky with his laser eyes. Wasn't I speaking English? You still don't get it?"
Allen swallowed and didn't dare ask any more questions.
The phone on the table buzzed twice.
The screen lit up with two new messages.
The first was from Ashley, his agent.
"The challenge race is tomorrow. Shockwave has already started training at the venue, and the reporters are here. You'd better show your face too, shoot some footage, warm up or something."
The second was from a contact saved as Charlotte, with a heart after her name.
"Darling, I heard you were attacked at the club."
"I'm so worried about you. Will you come to my apartment tonight? I've got your favorite red wine."
Chen Mo closed his eyes.
A-Train's memories opened up.
Charlotte, nicknamed The Female.
She could extend bone claws a foot long. She had been on a hero team years ago, and now made a living doing fringe commercial appearances.
The nickname always reminded Chen Mo of Japan's Jiraime, since she was also called The Female.
He had nothing better to do now anyway.
He could go see A-Train's "deeply devoted" girlfriend and pick up some of her supply of the drug while he was at it.
Chen Mo got to his feet. Blacklight rapidly wove across his body like countless little snakes.
A few seconds later, the swaggering A-Train was back.
The Female's apartment was on the other side of New York.
But with super speed, that was nothing.
Chen Mo stopped in front of a red-brick building.
It was a typical old American apartment building, its exterior fire escape covered in rust.
The air smelled of musty old wood, mingled with the stench of decay rising from the sewers.
He pushed open the half-closed entrance door and climbed the stairs, his leather boots creaking against the wooden floor with each step.
The hallway was dim, and the bulb overhead flickered, giving off an electric buzz.
He had just turned into the second-floor hallway when his brows knitted.
His footsteps stopped, and his gaze fixed on a spot ahead through the edge of his goggles.
A scruffy man with thick eyebrows and large eyes had stepped out of the shadows farther down the hall.
His old, dark trench coat hung open over a floral shirt, and a ragged fringe of stubble covered his jaw.
The man had his hands in his coat pockets and was chewing gum, with the savage air of a wild dog about him.
The two faced each other in the narrow hallway, a dozen or so paces apart.
When the man saw A-Train in his suit, his steps noticeably slowed for a moment.
But he turned his head, pretending to be an ordinary drunk passing through, and tried to slip past Chen Mo along the wall.
Chen Mo ignored him as he passed, an amused smile curling his lips.
Butcher?
Billy Butcher.
Why was this lunatic who had sworn to kill every superhuman here?
Was it the plot correcting itself?
Chen Mo's figure disappeared around the corner of the hallway.
Butcher didn't look back either. He hurried down the stairs and vanished into the night.
Chen Mo stopped outside The Female's door.
He knocked twice, and the door opened.
Amid a waft of perfume, a woman in a white camisole threw herself into his arms like a boneless snake.
"Darling, you're finally here."
Charlotte tilted her face up, her concern plain to see.
She wrapped both arms tightly around Chen Mo's neck and rubbed her chest against his blue suit.
"I saw the club attack on TV. You weren't hurt, were you?"
Chen Mo slipped an arm around her slender waist, led her into the apartment, and kicked the door shut behind them.
Imitating A-Train's slightly agitated and arrogant tone, he gave a cold snort.
"Just a few lunatics who came out of nowhere. How could they hurt me?"
"I'm the fastest man in the world. They couldn't even catch my exhaust."
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief and led Chen Mo over to sit on the messy couch.
She poured him a glass of red wine and handed it to him, her eyes full of love.
"Then what's bothering you?"
"Me?"
Chen Mo took the wineglass and swirled the crimson liquid, watching it leave thick trails on the glass.
He raised it to his lips and took a sip, his gaze settling on Charlotte's face.
"The club was nothing. I'm worried about Shockwave. What if I lose?"
Charlotte looked at Chen Mo with affection and trust, and spoke each word deliberately.
"You won't lose."
That threw Chen Mo for a loop.
That bastard A-Train had it so good. Damn it, I was right to kill him first.
As Chen Mo paused, Charlotte smiled and settled into his lap, gazing tenderly at her lover.
"You're the fastest man in the world!"
The corner of Chen Mo's mouth twitched. Shockwave's a nobody. How could he outrun me? I'm here for the goods.
"If I lose, I won't be anymore. Do you understand, Charlotte? I have to win that damn race. I need that stuff. Give me the Compound V."
Charlotte's expression changed slightly, and she averted her eyes as she tried to pull her hand away.
"Baby, are you sure?"
"You've been injecting it too often lately. If you keep this up, something bad will happen to you."
Charlotte looked at Chen Mo and shook her head.
"It'll only make you sink deeper and deeper. Please listen to me, baby."
Chen Mo frowned and raised his voice, imitating A-Train's temper when his drug cravings hit.
"Shut up."
"If I lose, I'll lose my place in The Seven. Do you understand, Charlotte? I have to be the fastest man in the world!"
Charlotte looked at her lover and placed his hand against her face.
"Darling, it's all right. Even if you lose and you're no longer the fastest man in the world, I'll still love you."
Chen Mo fell silent again. How had A-Train gotten the drug from her in the original story?
"Charlotte, this is for the promise we made. Only if I win can I announce our relationship. I need this victory. This is the last time, okay?"
Charlotte stared blankly at her lover's face, as though she had made up her mind about something.
"It's all right, baby. I can finally feel that you still love me. Since that's true, whether you're in The Seven or I'm the fastest man in the world's girlfriend..."
"What does any of that matter? You're all I need."
Chen Mo decided to play his trump card: if she wouldn't give it to him, he'd break up with her.
"Without it, I'll lose everything right now."
Chen Mo straightened up, his tone hard.
"Go get the drug, Charlotte."
"Or I'll walk out that door right now, and we're through for good."
Charlotte's shoulders sagged. Covering her face, she walked toward the bedroom, sobbing softly.
Less than half a minute later, she came out carrying a small black leather case and held it out to him.
Chen Mo snatched it and flipped open the metal clasp with his fingertip.
Several glass vials filled with blue liquid lay neatly inside, giving off a faint glow.
He closed the lid.
"Remember to come to the race tomorrow. I'll announce our relationship after I win, in front of everyone cheering."
Charlotte didn't answer, only sobbed quietly.
A-Train's already dead. I'll let you have a nice dream.
The muffled sound of the door closing shut out the sobs inside.
The next day.
At the race venue.
Spotlights illuminated the red rubber track, and dozens of cameras were already set up.
Ashley was directing things in her high heels.
"Move the camera closer, soften the lighting. We're shooting sportsmanship, not a horror movie."
Chen Mo stood at the starting line in his blue-and-black suit, stretching casually.
At the other end of the track.
Shockwave, dressed in a flashy bright yellow suit, was smiling at the camera.
He was younger than A-Train was now, without such dark circles under his eyes, and looked full of energy.
A reporter held a microphone up to him.
"Is there anything you'd like to say to your senior about the challenge race?"
Shockwave glanced at Chen Mo in the distance, his smile growing more confident.
"A-Train is a hero. I grew up watching him run."
"But his time has passed. New York needs faster feet."
"I'll take the baton from him. That's the natural order of things."
A cheer rose from the sidelines.
Ashley nodded in satisfaction and ran over to Chen Mo.
"Did you hear that? That's the kind of tension they want between the old and the new."
"When the camera comes over, you need to show a veteran's defiance and anger."
Chen Mo flexed his wrists, his joints cracking.
"Anger?"
He looked at Shockwave jumping around in the distance, a cruel glint flashing in his eyes.
"Ashley, nobody gets angry at an ant."
Ashley nodded, looking very pleased.
"That's right, A-Train. Keep that up."