Boredom weighs as heavy as a head on a cold marble table. PO1 Anna Verloren was ever so familiar with this, as though her years in a cement box with white walls, faded carpets, and a clock that ticked away with lethargic indifference lingered to the present. With the monotony of real life paling so severely in comparison to the life she lived ages ago, demotivation clung to her like stubborn fog clinging to pavements. Tonight, her only company were the mist and the eerie shadows casted by the faint glow of streetlamps. The spotlights above her medals and certificates at home shone brighter than these, but those achievements she earned in the academy seemed pointless now.

Senses sharp, she patrolled the city on foot, keen eyes scanning dark alleys and rooftops for any signs of trouble. And secretly, she prayed for trouble. She didn’t wish to harm anyone but to have something to chase or, better yet, someone to lose to. Anna couldn't shake the fantasy of a heroic exit, an act of valor that transcended the mundane reality of her nightly routine. The thought accompanied her so often lately, she was almost certain it would be her fate.

Like a sign of approval from a higher power, the air crackled with an ominous hum. Drones descended upon her like vultures sensing vulnerability. Her training kicked in; she dove and rolled to safety, and with an almost mystical precision, shot down four in a row within seconds, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. But the relentless onslaught of the mechanical assailants pushed her to the brink. Her inability to defend herself from the remaining seven was a stark contrast to the skill and unyielding will she had as a cadet.

Marked and fully woken by the sting of the enemy’s shot, Anna fell to the ground and struggled to catch her breath, her body battered and bruised by the bullets that failed to pierce her armor. Was this the heroic end she longed for? Did she lose by her own failure or was she finally made to? For what was fate if not the violent eradication of choice? She could just lay here in surrender for someone else to find her and call her a martyr. (Or a failure. Their choice.)

Throughout her seemingly endless existence, she had always been the one helping others — her very job was to help others — but now, she found herself in desperate need of help. And of course, she wouldn’t ask for it, wouldn’t beg for mercy from whoever’s controlling the drones, wouldn’t even reach for her phone. She would never admit it, never mentioned it to anyone, but God knows she had been begging for the release of death.

Just as Anna's eyes fluttered closed, a figure appeared out of nowhere: a woman, clad in a billowing cloak the color of midnight. In no time, the woman dispatched Anna's attackers. With what, the cop couldn’t see; all Anna heard was metal against metal, the spiraling of two drones, and the sputtering of the remainder. After that, the woman knelt down beside Anna, her expression stern but compassionate, to treat her injuries.

Even through the mist, even after a conscious attempt to split her skull open as she fell to the concrete, Anna could clearly see those piercing blue eyes. Her heroine’s features were sharp and angular, giving her an almost otherworldly appearance. Her black leather suit seemed to cling to her like a second skin, accentuating her lithe and agile frame. But it was the way she moved with fluidity and grace that truly commanded Anna's attention. The way she tended to Anna’s wounds were precise and practiced, revealing a level of skill that surpassed anything Anna had ever seen. She moved with a quiet determination, her focused expression softened by the compassion in her eyes.

"I've got you," the woman repeated softly, her voice like a soothing melody in the midst of chaos. Her words held a sense of reassurance, a promise of safety not unlike the one Anna swore all those decades ago.

The cop couldn't help but wonder who she was and how she had come to possess such extraordinary abilities. She didn’t seem to be from the academy. What was her name? Why did she help her? Who was she? Had she done this before, or did she have a connection to the drones that allowed her to deal with them with ease? There was a magnetic pull about her, an enigmatic quality that left Anna with more questions than answers. Anna found herself wanting to live a little longer just to know more.

Just … a little more.

“I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your phone. I’m just trying to help,” said the woman, having already dialed 911. “By the way, if they ask, just tell them you were saved by a caped crusader or something. Adds a touch of drama, don't you think?" She winked and continued speaking into the phone, "No, no capes involved ... unfortunately. But hey, I've got unlimited minutes on my hero plan. They never charge extra for saving lives. Well, at least not yet."

Anna couldn’t help but let out a weak chuckle. She knew that the call was on hold by then and that the agent had kept the caller on the line just to guarantee that they were sending a team to the right location. She also knew that the woman’s heart was racing despite her cool composure. Anna heard office sounds from the other end and the organ in the woman’s chest pounding. Anna heard the ambulance two minutes before they arrived, and how seconds before their arrival, the woman disappeared into the shadows.

During the commotion that followed the woman’s departure, Anna accepted help with a newfound sense of purpose and a vow to find the person who saved her.