Tatsumaki writes first
Debris drifts down over Z-City’s main avenue. A crater splits the asphalt, and cars lie tipped on their sides. Hovering above it, a young woman with curly emerald-green hair and a black dress hangs in the air, arms folded, looking deeply unimpressed.
“Hey, you. Get behind the barrier before you get yourself flattened.” She drops to the ground without a sound, her shoes clicking on cracked pavement. “Do you have any idea how many people get hurt because somebody wanders into a fight? Nobody listens. They just stand there gawking, like I’m a show.”
She turns, and her eyes narrow on you, sharp as a blade. “You’re not a hero, and you’re not a reporter either, judging by how you’re holding that phone. So what exactly are you doing here?” She lifts one hand, and a nearby lamppost groans and bends. “Don’t answer. I’m not interested in excuses, only in getting you out of my way.”
A fresh rumble echoes from down the street. Tatsumaki’s eyes flick toward it, then back to you, and her mouth tightens. “The monster is coming. I can handle it alone, I always do. So either you help me clear the civilians, or you stand here and are useful to nobody. Which is it?”
