Embers

The dimly lit warehouse in the industrial district of New York City buzzed with tension.

The air was thick with the scent of gasoline and sweat, mingling with the faint odor of the Hudson River that seeped through the cracked walls.

Inside, a group of Russian gang members moved with , herding a group of frightened men and women into the back of an unmarked truck.

The victims, bound and gagged, had the hollow-eyed look of those who knew they were being shipped off to an unknown fate.

A burly man with a scar running down the length of his face, known among the gang as Viktor, oversaw the operation.

His cold eyes scanned the scene, ensuring that everything was moving according to plan.

He lit a cigar, the orange ember glowing faintly in the dim light as he took a long drag.

"Move faster," he barked in Russian to one of the younger men struggling to hoist a bound woman into the truck. "We don't have all night."

The young man grunted as he shoved the woman inside, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I'm going as fast as I can, Viktor. But we're short on people. Ever since that new hero showed up, half our crew has been picked off."

Viktor's scowl deepened. "Ember," he spat the name the people have given her like a curse.

"She's been a real problem. We've lost three shipments in the past month because of her."

Another man, Yuri, joined the conversation as he slammed the truck's rear doors shut. "She's got the streets buzzing. The people love her, think she's some kind of angel or something. It's bad for business. Our buyers are getting nervous."

Viktor exhaled a cloud of smoke, his mind racing with thoughts of the elusive hero.

Ember had become a thorn in their side, appearing out of nowhere to disrupt their operations much more than Homelander.

The people called her Ember because of the way she burned through their ranks, leaving nothing but burning ashes in her wake.

She was fast, deadly, and always seemed to know where they were going to strike next.

"She's dangerous," Viktor admitted, his voice low and filled with malice. "But she's just one person. We'll deal with her the same way we deal with everyone who gets in our way."

Yuri frowned. "And how do you plan to do that, Viktor? The last crew that tried to take her out didn't even have their ashes left."

Viktor's eyes narrowed as he flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it under his boot. "We'll find her weakness," he said, his voice dripping with menace.

"Everyone has one. We just need to lure her out, make her think she's got us cornered. Then we strike."

Yuri nodded slowly, though the uncertainty was clear in his eyes.

The thought of facing Ember sent a chill down his spine, but Viktor's confidence was infectious.

He knew they couldn't keep losing shipments like this. If they did, their entire operation would be at risk.

Viktor glanced at the truck, now fully loaded with their latest batch of human cargo. "Get this to our delivery partners," he ordered. "And tell them to double security. I don't want any surprises tonight."

As the gang members scrambled to follow his orders, Viktor turned his gaze to the darkened streets beyond the warehouse.

Somewhere out there, Ember was waiting, watching, ready to strike again. But this time, Viktor promised himself, she wouldn't find them so easy to break.

"We'll see who burns who," he muttered under his breath before turning away to oversee the final preparations.

Though he was very wrong.

---

Viktor's world erupted in a blaze of agony before he even had a chance to scream.

A molten fist punched through his torso, incinerating flesh and bone with horrifying ease.

The heat was so intense that the air around it shimmered, the skin on his chest bubbling .

He tried to draw breath, to cry out, but all that came was a strangled gasp as blood flooded his throat.

The Russian gang members watched in mute horror as their leader's body slumped forward, a gaping, glowing hole in his chest where his heart used to be.

Standing over him, her expression devoid of pity, was Ember—or as she had once been known, Ashley.

Her eyes blazed with the same hellish intensity as the flames dancing around her hand, and the air around her crackled with the remnants of her power.

She let Viktor's corpse fall to the ground with a sickening thud, her gaze already shifting to the next man.

Slowly, deliberately, she walked toward Yuri, her footsteps echoing ominously in the warehouse.

"Where do you take them?" Her voice was low, almost a whisper, but it held the weight of an impending inferno. "The people you traffic—where do they go?"

Yuri stumbled backward, terror tightening his chest as he tried to escape.

His hand fumbled for the gun at his waist, but Ashley was faster.

She moved in a blur, her hand seizing his wrist with a grip so hot that the gun began to melt, the molten metal searing into his flesh.

"Answer me," she hissed, her eyes locking onto his with a predatory intensity.

The heat from her hand intensified, making his skin blister and peel away.

"They go to the docks!" Yuri screamed, his voice a high-pitched wail of terror. Tears streamed down his face as the pain became unbearable.

"We—We deliver them to the ships! Cargo ships, they take them to different places—Europe, South America, everywhere! Please, just let me go!"

Ashley tilted her head, as if considering his plea.

But the look in her eyes was far from merciful.

With a cold smile, she twisted his wrist further, causing the melted metal to drip onto his skin, burning deeper into his flesh.

"And the hitmen?" she demanded, her voice icy and sharp. "Who do you hire?"

"They're—they're just mercenaries!" Yuri sobbed, his whole body trembling in her grip. "We hire them to protect us, to kill anyone who tries to stop us. They're not part of us, I swear!"

Ashley leaned in close, so close that he could feel the heat radiating from her, scorching his skin. "You think I care about your excuses?" she sneered. "You think I'll let you walk away from this?"

Yuri's sobs turned to desperate gasps as she tightened her grip further, her flames licking at his face, searing the skin from his cheek.

The smell of burning flesh filled the room, and the other gang members flinched, too terrified to intervene.

Ashley watched him suffer for a moment longer, relishing the fear in his eyes. Then, with a vicious smile, she released him. Yuri collapsed to the floor, clutching his mangled wrist and cheek, his cries of pain echoing through the warehouse.

"You're going to the authorities," she said, her voice dripping with cold, calculated cruelty. "And you're going to tell them everything. Every name, every shipment, every hit you've ordered. If you think you can escape this, think again."

Yuri nodded frantically, too broken to resist.

But Ashley wasn't done. She looked around at the remaining gang members, her eyes burning with malevolent intent.

"If any of you even think about continuing this business, I'll be back," she said softly, her voice like the promise of death. "And next time, I won't be so merciful."

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Stones and Reviews please