Dante was deep in sleep, wrapped up cozily in a blanket on the couch, mouth slightly open, one arm hanging off the edge. The soreness from yesterday had seeped into his bones, even in his sleep, his body twitched from phantom blows. That is, until a firm slap landed square on his stomach.
"Up."
"—ghuh?" He choked, eyes shooting open as he sprang upright. Mirko stood over him, already in her hero uniform, arms crossed.
"You're still alive, so get up. We're gonna go patrol and then maybe head to Hosu, haven't been there in a while."
Dante groaned, flopping back into the couch with a dramatic sigh. "Can't I just… be dead for another hour?"
Mirko leaned down and grabbed his blanket, ripping it away. "Get up. Stop being such a baby."
Dante cursed under his breath, but Mirko was already pacing near the window, peering out at the city. She tapped her foot in thought. "Okay. We can either take a train or we could run it."
Dante blinked. "You mean run, like run run? Where are we going?"
Mirko looked over her shoulder, grinning slightly. "Been wanting to head over to some other places too, crimes been picking up all over lately especially in Hosu. And yeah, a run. It'd be good for you."
He groaned again, rubbing his face. "I can't wait."
Mirko was just leaning on the windowsill. She was weighing the pros and cons, train would be faster, easier, just better. But running would be hellish for Dante, help keep him sharp and would be good for a race.
Dante caught the look in her eye and immediately regretted even asking.
"…We're gonna run, aren't we?"
Mirko cracked her knuckles. "Hope you stretched."
Dante's only response was a low, exhausted groan as he dragged himself off the couch.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked for his hero costume, what was left of it anyways. The pink vest had been destroyed because of his tendrils. Now, all that remained were the torn black shorts, they were fine, just a bit raggedy. Everything else had been shredded.
Dante sighed. "Guess I gotta go with a homeless look."
He tugged on the shorts, tightened the laces on his boots and looked around for something, anything to cover him up just a little bit more. Nothing. Just as he stepped toward the door, Mirko's voice echoed through the apartment.
"Let's go! Now!"
"Now?!" He called back, voice still groggy.
"You heard me!" She said from the hallway, already leaving.
Dante cursed again and grabbed his phone and a banana before stumbling out the door behind her. The sun was out, it was 8AM but the streets were quiet and he was surprisingly cold.
Mirko was already half a block down the street, running like there was no time.
"Really, why?" Dante muttered, trying to shake the chill out of his arms. His bruised body tightened with each breath.
He ran after her, but he noticed something, he saw a scrap of cloth over a rusty fence post. It looked like a scarf. Dark brown, probably left behind by someone days ago. He didn't care. He snatched it off the post, sniffed it once to make sure it didn't smell like piss or something, shook it off to clean it up a bit, then wrapped it around his neck and shoulders.
Better than nothing.
He started to jog, his boots slapping the pavement. His legs ached, but the movement was warming him up quickly and before long, he was closing the distance.
"Hey—!" He called out. "You could've waited like five damn minutes for me!"
Mirko didn't bother slowing down. "You could've gotten up earlier!"
Dante grumbled, falling into step beside her. His scarf fluttered in the wind behind him, giving him a bit of unnecessary dramatic flair. "You ever consider that I'm not like you? I can't just get up and run straight away."
"Sure you are, we're two grapes cut from the same vine!" She said, smirking. "You'll survive."
"If you say so…"
She didn't respond. They kept jogging in silence, weaving through sleepy streets and quiet alleyways. The city was still waking up too.
Dante glanced at Mirko out of the corner of his eye. There was a ferocity to her even in silence.
"What's the deal, anyway?" He finally asked, panting slightly. "We chasing villains? Playing babysitter? What even is patrol? We just walk around?"
"Y'know, hands on patrol," she replied, voice even. "Real neighbourhoods. Real risky. I gotta see how you respond to emergencies, if we see anything off we go and save the day."
"Ah… okay, I see. Finally some hero work."
She didn't reply.
He didn't say anything either. Just adjusted the scarf around his neck and kept up his pace.
They turned a corner and headed uphill, where the streets grew narrower and the buildings shrank. Windows were boarded up. Chain link fences everywhere.
Dante kept following Mirko, breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead on his back. The soreness from yesterday was somehow fading, but it was still rough.
…
…
Hours later, the two of them kept going through old neighbourhoods. Patrol had been steady, very uneventful, Dante noted every quiet alley, every flickering streetlight, every shifting figure in a window. His legs were okay now, but he felt off.
The sun was already nearly set and Mirko slowed her jog to a stop and stretched her arms behind her back, cracking her knuckles. Dante rolled his neck, wiping the sweat off his brow with the end of his scarf.
And then—
BZZZZTTTTT— BZZZZZTTTTTT… BZZZZZZTTTTT!!
Mirko's phone lit up. She snatched it from her waistband and looked down.
Her eyes widened. "Shit."
Dante stepped beside her. "What's going on?"
"A villain attack in Hosu City," she said, looking for more details. "Extremely high alert. Fire, destruction, casualties already confirmed. Multiple threats. It's bad, really bad."
She stared at the screen, jaw tight. Her body was shaking with restlessness, but she wasn't moving.
"We should've taken the train," she muttered. "I should've taken the damn train. We're too far away, it'd take over two hours at a full sprint and that's if we don't collapse on the way."
Dante looked past her, toward the skyline. It was nearly dark out, it looked beautiful, and that pissed him off. Somewhere under this beautiful sky, people's lives were in danger and here they were, standing still.
He clenched his fists. "No."
Mirko snapped her gaze to him. "No what?"
"I'm going."
"You're not—what? You'll never get there fast enough, not at your running pace."
"I'm not running," he said, taking a step back.
A deep, focused inhale that burned all the way down. The world around him faded.
His back arched slightly as something shifted. Then it started, bone like structures ripped out of Dante's back, coated in dense, dark red sludge, stretching and spreading until a pair of massive, dragon like wings unfurled from his back. Veins of hardened sludge coiled through them like reinforcements, shaping the yucky limbs into perfect aerodynamic shape.
Mirko's brows shot up, "You can fly?"
"Yes."
He dropped low, bent his knees, then shot up into the sky with a thunderous boom. His wings beat heavily, propelling him further into the sky. The air thinned, his scarf fluttered around violently, eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon.
Hosu city was distant, barely a smear of smoke and flame across the skyline. But with each beat of his wings, it grew slightly larger.
Until—
"I'm going too slow."
His teeth clenched. He could feel the drag. The wind was fighting against him. He wasn't flying fast enough to get there in time. There were people suffering right now, and he was flapping around in the sky like a baby bird.
It wasn't good enough.
He grunted, then he twisted his body in the air, taking his boots off, holding them by the laces in his mouth, throwing his arms and legs behind him.
"Okay, let's try this."
His hands and feet started to crack.
FWOOOOM!
Fire blasted out from both his palms and the soles of his feet. His body jerked forwards wings straining to hold him steady. He was definitely faster now, noticeably so, but it still wasn't enough.
He dug in deeper.
More fire.
His vision turned a hue of red, a thin layer of hardening covering his eyes instinctively to protect his eyes from the harsh wind.
More. He needed MORE.
His hands and feet burst into violent flames, streams of fire roaring like jet trails rocketing behind him. The air around his body warped and screamed. His wings weren't beating anymore. They were steering, keeping him in the air as he flew toward.
The clouds split.
His scarf was torn clean off, vaporized from the intensity.
His body shuddered from the pressure, but he didn't stop. He couldn't afford to.
He pushed even harder, he needed more fire, more output, more speed—until the sounds of the world faded into a low, distorted roar and a sonic shockwave cracked the sky behind him.
"JUST REACH MACH SPEED ALREADY!"
Hosu was no longer a blur in the distance.
It was right there.
Almost in reach.